The Collection
by elixira
Summary: After the death of her parents, Maka Albarn is sent to live in a strange foster home for special kids where nothing is as it seems. Too bad the only person who seems to be telling her the truth is the one boy who can never be her friend.
1. Prologue

**PROLOGUE**

The circle was closed around her now, but if she wanted this to work, she couldn't be afraid.

Having that thought in her mind seemed to bring back some of the courage that had fled when she stepped into the center of the surveying figures. Many others surrounded her, both male and female, short and tall, but none younger than she was. They looked at her with eyes filled with incredulity; those weren't the types of things she liked, having people watch as if they were waiting for her to make the mistake that would bring about her own destruction.

_When I get stronger, those stares will disappear_, the girl promised herself.

A man dressed in dark clothes stepped forward. "Are you ready?"

"Yes." The confidence in her voice pleased her.

As it did to him. The man nodded once, circling her in slow, smooth movements, his golden eyes never wavering. She shivered under his intent gaze. He may have looked like a man no more than thirty, but they all knew that his age surpassed that number centuries ago.

Closing her eyes, the girl waited for the clock to strike the hour in which she had been born exactly sixteen years before. She waited for the time for the ceremony to begin. She waited for the time her powers would be fully released to her.

She didn't have to wait for his questioning.

"You were born when?"

"September fifth, nine forty-seven p.m.," the girl answered automatically.

"When did you find out the truth of your existence?"

"My father told me when I was three." As she said that, her words turned bitter. Ever since she'd been able to talk, her dad had been teaching her spells and tricks and ways to improve her bound powers. She hated all the time he had spent training her as if she were going to war, and when he left, she hated him even more. He had wasted her entire childhood thinking trying to get a good Collection to accept her, and she hated him for that the most.

The man noticed but just boomed out another question. "When had you been brought into the Collection?"

"Two years ago, six days after my thirteenth birthday."

"Will you pledge to support our family through thick and thin, through war and peace, whenever we call for you?"

"Yes."

"Will you accept the invitation into our Collection, and stay until the day you die? Serving our commands, honoring our ranks, and protecting our family with your very life?"

This was the big question. Everyone standing around the sand-drawn pentagram leaned in as if they wouldn't be able to hear her answer clear enough. If she said yes, she'd be forever bound, just as they were. If she said no, her powers would still come but the truce between her and everyone of that Collection, present and future, would turn against her.

She said, "Yes," not knowing how, in ten years, she would be running away from those very people with the secrets they had kept.

Not knowing how, in twenty, she would learn for this to be the biggest mistake of her life.

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**I stumbled upon an amazing Soul Eater fic and felt the need to write my own. Next chapter will be much longer, I promise. :)**


	2. Chapter One

**For the purpose of this story, I've changed most characters' eye colors and had fun playing around with their personalities. Please enjoy! **

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**CHAPTER ONE**

Her luggage bumped ungracefully over the cobblestone path in a way that made her want to scream at the heavily packed suitcase for its troublesome behavior. But she realized quickly enough that being caught talking to inanimate objects wouldn't make a very good first impression and she kept her childish complaints to herself.

_Not like they won't hate me anyways,_ Maka thought bitterly, scowling at the two wheels on her single luggage as they got caught on another uneven stone. She sighed and tugged roughly on the handle again. It jerked up so quickly that she could barely maintain her balance when it ran over the back of her heel. Pressing her lips together, she suppressed a whimper and was completely glad that she had decided to wear her thick boots before flying into New York instead of the flip flops that were so comfortable on her feet back at her last home in Florida.

She hated moving. Having had to switch schools almost every year for the past fifteen years—and three-quarters, she always liked to remind herself—of her very busy life, Maka was sick of transferring across the country every time her dad found a new job.

_Dad_. _Mom_. She wanted to cry because she knew how different this move would be from any other, because this time—for the first time—her parents weren't going to be with her. They were never going to be with her ever again. She may have hated moving, but Maka knew that if it meant having her parents back at her side, she'd trade in her pass to a permanent residence any day.

"Keep it together, Albarn," she mumbled to herself, as she dragged her wheeled suitcase over another high planted rock. "No one is going to see you cry, not here, not anywhere." _Dad always said I looked better when I was smiling._

Bump. CRASH.

Brushing off the back of her jeans and pulling on the handle of her suitcase again after tripping, Maka thought, _What kind of crazy people use cobblestone nowadays anyway?_

Finally, after the limo dropped her off at the front gate, the doorman clarified her ID, and she trudged up the ridiculously long road to the main house, Maka found herself standing in front of a grand, wooden door with a knocker in the shape of a star she thought she would only ever see in movies.

To be honest, she thought this place was way too luxurious to be true. With its tall, wrought-iron gates and fancy fountain in front, it seemed more like a house the president of the United States would live in than a group home for special kids with no place else to go.

_Special_. That's what her social worker had told her when the limo came to pick her up that morning—even before then, when the owner of this huge house had called to offer her a place in their confinement just after the funeral. They called it the _Star_ house. It made Maka want to roll her eyes.

Without another thought, she ignored the knocker and rapped her knuckles on the wood twice.

It flung open.

_Oh God_. She paled and looked down as soon as she saw the large group waiting behind the door, letting her thick brown hair act as a shield. Many kids around her age, older and younger, were gathered around the large, Victorian-styled room with their gazes locked onto the prey which had just walked in.

A kind hand came down on her shoulder but Maka still refused to make eye contact with any of the watching residents.

"Hi," the girl by her arm greeted her. "My name's Tsubaki. You're Maka, right?"

"Nooo," another female voice drawled from the balcony that overlooked the entire room on the second floor, her voice dripping with sarcasm. There was the sound of shifting and a small, unrecognizable giggle from overhead. "She's someone else who just happens to be arriving on the same day we're only supposed to have one new kid. Seriously, Tsu, it's obvious who she is."

Tsubaki shot the girl a look. "I'm just making sure, Kim. You don't have to be so rude about it."

"It's my specialty," Kim returned, and though Maka didn't look up, she knew that the girl flipped her hair.

Instead of answering that, Tsubaki ignored her and smiled kindly at Maka. "Do you want me to show you to your room? I'm sure you'd probably want to put all your stuff away."

"Sure." She said it as though nothing was bothering her, but couldn't be sure if anyone bought it.

On her way out, she heard a voice whisper loudly, "How could she possibly fit all her stuff in one suitcase? My jeans alone would take up that much!"

_At least they don't seem to know what happened_, Maka thought with mock enthusiasm as she followed Tsubaki up the dark paneled staircases, picking up her apparently small case by its handle. They passed several other rooms and turned around so many corners that she was positive she would get lost if she ever tried to find the way herself. If she ever thought the house looked big on the outside, it was a freaking maze on the in.

"Don't worry, you'll get used to how big this place is after a while," Tsubaki said with a laugh, as if reading her thoughts. Maka looked up in puzzlement, but the girl was still walking ahead, her long black hair whipping behind her. "I was the same way when I first arrived," she explained.

"Oh," she breathed. "Thanks."

"Don't worry about it." Tsubaki turned another corner and stopped in front of a simple door at the end of the hallway. "Here we are! Your new room."

Maka trailed slightly behind her as she stepped through the polished doorway and gasped in surprise. The whole opposite wall was a window with thick, blue curtains pushed aside to reveal a beautiful view over the backyard. Since she came in through the gate and had to constantly watch her feet so she wouldn't fall on the uneven stones, she hadn't noticed that the mansion was directly in front of a forest.

"Wow!" Her stuff was automatically forgotten as she rushed up the glass with a bright smile and looked over the beautiful view.

"I'm glad you like it," Tsubaki laughed as she plopped down on the edge of the queen-sized bed, which had sheets to match the curtains and more decorative pillows to count. "When we heard you were coming, I picked out a room for you that looked over the back, just like mine. I was secretly hoping you wouldn't be an indoor girl like the others." She smiled. "I'm glad you're not."

For the first time since she arrived, Maka lifted her gaze to meet at eye level and her breath caught when she did. Tsubaki's straight hair was tied in a high ponytail, so black it almost reflected blue in the natural sunlight that poured through the large window. But even though she was probably about the prettiest girl Maka had ever seen, that wasn't the reason she turned away.

"Your eyes…"

She could feel Tsubaki stop. "You really don't know, do you?" she asked softly.

"Know what?" Maka forced herself to look up again.

Tsubaki shook her head. "Nothing. I know that my eyes are a strange color, but you'll soon realize that almost everyone in this house has them too. But despite what you hear, they aren't contacts."

"I know." She bit her lip. "I… My mom's eyes were the same color. Purple. Almost like amethyst, she used to say, and I knew they weren't contacts." Her mom _did_ have colored contacts before, but they were brown. Just a natural brown, like Maka's own. She studied Tsubaki's wide eyes and saw the exact same shade her mother had. It made her throat tighten but she kept her will strong and tears contained, the promise she had made before she arrived repeating itself in her head.

"I'm so sorry about your parents, Maka."

She had heard that phrase uttered so many times in the past week, saw so much pity in people's eyes whenever they looked at her. But for some reason, she could tell that Tsubaki only held sympathy in her tone. She was truly sorry, so that was why Maka found it safe to say, "It's all right."

-x-

Almost an hour later, Maka and Tsubaki were rushing down the stairs at the sound of a bell ringing. The duo had gotten all of her things unpacked (though there wasn't really much to put away) and had a bit of time to get acquainted. It was easy to like Tsubaki—she was kind and understanding, and seemed to know what it felt like to be new in this so-called foster home.

Tsubaki had explained that it was the dinner bell. When the chefs—yes, it took a while for Maka to get used to the fact that they had servants of _all_ sorts—were finished cooking, they would ring the bell for the meal. Everyone ate around one large table.

_Everyone_. Maka shivered at the thought of having all eyes on her once again, but reassured herself with the thought that she wouldn't be alone this time. Still, when all eyes in the grand room turned to her as soon as she walked through the door, it took all she had to keep her from running away.

Tsubaki made a small noise under her breath that sounded half like she was clearing her throat. But whatever it was, most of the heads turned back to whatever they had doing before they walked in. Most, but not all.

"Thanks," Maka whispered again for probably the millionth time, but Tsubaki just smiled back and led them to a few empty seats near the end of the table.

"Tsu!" a girl with blond hair squealed as soon as they reached a few unoccupied seats. Then she turned her vibrant green eyes onto Maka, who fought the urge to squint. They seemed to have swirls of darker and lighter green in them, but it was hard to tell. "Maka, am I right? Welcome to the Star house!"

Maka almost stepped back when the strange green-eyed girl hugged her. Instead, she shot Tsubaki a questioning look.

Laughing, Tsubaki dropped down into an empty chair and as soon as she was released, gestured for Maka to take the seat beside her. "That's Patty. She's very… affectionate?"

The girl—Patty—wacked Tsubaki on the arm, but she was grinning. "Hey, don't scare the new girl away from me! You may have been chosen to watch out for her by Az, but that doesn't mean it's fair to keep her away from everyone else." She turned to Maka. "Azazel is the owner of this place."

"A very, very hot owner," another girl piped up with a wicked grin. "I'm Patty's twin sister, Elizabeth." Her pale periwinkle eyes seemed to be as calculating and calm as her posture was arrogant. "Call me Liz."

"Will do," Maka said with a mock salute. The other three snickered.

"It's really nice to have you here," Patty told her with a sincerity she couldn't help but trust. "We don't get very many new people here as often, and especially if they're around our age."

Maka had worked hard to pretend that she wasn't uncomfortable or shy around these people all day, but their kindness seemed to make the confidence in her voice stand out naturally; surprisingly. "How old are you, anyways?"

"The three of us are in the same grade as you, actually," Tsubaki said, turning in her chair to smile at her. "Juniors."

"Really?" It was pretty hard to believe—they seemed so much more mature than she was.

"Yup," Patty replied. "Well, except for the fact that we're already sixteen."

Maka noticed the exchanged knowing looks that passed between them and knew she was missing something. Probably an inside joke. It's not like she didn't expect there to be some kind of secret communication between the twenty kids who lived in the mansion, so she decided to dismiss it.

"That's what sucks about being born in December and skipping the cutoff date," she said conversationally. "You're the youngest in the group."

"I think you're lucky," Liz asserted with a longing sigh. "What I wouldn't give to have my youth back."

"You're only a few months older than I am," Maka reminded her.

"But I was born in January! Practically a year! And in that year, nothing is ever the same." She let out another dramatic sigh.

Maka laughed. "Okay then, Miss Congeniality."

Liz grinned. "Touché."

A loud bang erupted from the far side of the table, and Maka's head whipped around to stare. Two older girls caught her gaze and grinned, waving their perfectly manicured fingers at her. Maka was thinking to wave back when a bright spark formed at the tips of their fingers, glittering bright pink. For a moment she thought it was some weird, trick of the light, but the taller girl jerked her wrist and the word 'HEY' was spelled out in the same sparkling light. Maka's eyes widened as the two girls giggled, turning to face her friends again when Patty cleared her throat.

"So, excited for school tomorrow?" Patty inquired, leaning across the table.

"School?" Maka echoed, then understanding hit her. "Ugh, I forgot. I'm going to a new school tomorrow—just _great_. New city, new house, new kids, and now I'm starting mid-semester too. Where is it anyway?"

"Shibusen Prep. It's located a couple miles west from our _beau_-tiful home, and you'll love it, I promise." Patty tapped a finger on her lips. "Then again, if you don't know how to do university math in eleventh grade, then you're most likely screwed."

"That's reassuring," Maka said sarcastically.

Tsubaki gave her a sympathetic look. "I'm sure you'll be fine. Shibusen's curriculum is just a little more challenging than most, but otherwise, we have fun. And you're lucky you arrived only two weeks into September—I remember Liz and Patty came in late April two years ago—barely had time to catch up before finals."

Pulling her knees up so they were cross-legged on the leather cushioned chair, Liz let out a sound that sounded half like sighing and half like snorting as she rolled her pale eyes. "It was absolute _torture_. I've never been one to study hard, and it took more than my fair share of all-nighters to not fail calculus. In grade nine. They had grade nine calculus."

"I thought you were supposed to learn that in grade twelve," Maka imputed warily. Liz gave her a look that could only be translated to _you are_.

"But at Shibusen," Patty mimicked, "we 'excel in our academics and exceed all expectations.'"

"She's quoting page three of the student handbook," Tsubaki explained. "And one of our very many school quotes."

"You guys make it sound like a laboring prison," Maka observed.

The three girls grinned. "It is."

Maka tried not to think about how horrible the first day of school could possibly go. It was true that she had been the new kid probably more times than anyone else, but she still wasn't exactly used to all the attention. Luckily, she hadn't encountered a single school that had rabid popular girls that picked on the newbies—although there was a large helping of girls who _thought_ they were popular. But then again, it might've also had to do with the fact that she had always tried to keep a low profile.

Her mom was constantly worried that moving so much was butting into her social life, no matter how many times Maka assured her otherwise. Truth was, fitting in never was a particular goal of hers. She just wanted to get in and get out with as little attention as possible.

It wasn't like she didn't have any school friends, because she did. They just weren't exactly the type who stuck around. Maka was more of the quiet type and didn't like the gossiping sleepovers and loud parties. Some might peg her as somewhat of a lonely girl, but she didn't mind. She'd rather curl up with a book at home than party 'til dawn any day.

That reminded her—she would need to take a trip to the bookstore soon. Every single collectible from her old collection was already long gone. Only ashes remained.

She sighed.

"Oh, lookie here! The new girl's making friends!" Out of all four girls, only one turned at the sound of the male voice. Now that she thought about it, Maka hadn't seen a single boy in the entire house ever since she arrived (well, not like she'd really been looking, but still). This one was the first.

As soon as Patty heard the obviously familiar laugh, she rolled her eyes and checked her nails like she was annoyed. "What do you want, Hiro?"

The boy grinned and was suddenly right behind them. The bright chandelier than hung overhead seemed to bring out the bright spots in his dark, honey-colored eyes. "Just wanted to say hi," he said, leaning against the back of Maka's chair in a way she had seen countless times on TV. "How's your first day?"

She shrugged and turned away, abruptly bored. "Fine."

"Kitten means 'fine until you got here,'" Patty hinted, which caused Maka to curve a brow at the nickname and Hiro to put a hand over his heart in mock-hurt.

"That's not very nice, Patty!"

Liz didn't even spare him a glance as she said nonchalantly, "Just go away, Hiro. We don't feel like tolerating you today."

"Hey, hey," Maka said automatically, putting her hands up as if to ease the tension out of the air. She wasn't a fan of fights, and this was quickly moving out of her comfort zone. "No need to be mean."

"See? The new girl wants me here!"

Her eyes narrowed at his boast. "I didn't say that either."

Tsubaki waved her arm at the boy whose playful attitude had just turned annoying. "Hiro, just give her a day, alright? It's just time for her to get to know the girls."

"Whatever." He shrugged and as quickly as he came, he was gone.

Maka observed the girls in front of her with a questioning look. "What was that about? Is there something about him I'm just not getting?"

"Lots." Patty's face turned into a small frown as she turned to watch the boy who was now on the other side of the room, talking to a bunch of girls. "Hiro's not just your average guy—he's a total ass and we just don't like him."

"What she means is," Liz put in quickly, "he's not someone that's good to be involved with. Trust us on this, Maka. He's not all he claims to be."

Maka shrugged and looked over her shoulder at the rest of the room's habitants. Including herself, she counted exactly twenty teens around the long table, the oldest no more than nineteen, and the youngest no smaller than thirteen. Only four she had seen were male. All of the older ones had irises of colors that she had probably never seen before, and she couldn't help but feel like Plain Jane with her own dark brown orbs.

Kim was sitting on the end of the table next to a girl with eyes so yellow they reminded her of a cat. Suddenly, as if feeling her gaze, Kim's head snapped up and met with hers. Maka could see for the first time that the girl's eyes were a deep reflective black unlike anything she'd ever seen before, and they seemed to brim with an irate confidence as she mouthed 'loser' and turned away. Maka frowned and looked back to give her waiting friends their answer.

"I don't think it's fair to judge someone just by what other people say," she said decidedly. "I'll see for myself, if that's okay."

Tsubaki smiled. "That's perfect."

"Quiet!" a voice boomed from the head of the table and all heads swirled immediately to stare at the boy who had commanded their attention. Maka blinked as soon as she saw him—he definitely hadn't been there before when she did a room scan. He reminded her of those perfect storybook princes. Perfect hair, golden eyes with a deep intensity that was almost alluring, and a posture that spelled out that he knew exactly what he was doing.

From the other side of the table, Kim rolled her red eyes. "What is it, Kid? We should wait for Az before we start dinner."

"Azazel isn't going to be able to be here today," Kid responded calmly. "He told me to send you the message to eat without him."

Kim was suddenly on her feet and a look of incredulity was plastered across her face. "But why would he tell you?" she protested. "You are by far not his favorite, and if anything, he should've come to _me_."

"Like he'd put our safety in the hands of you," Hiro snorted. "Seriously, Kim, even Az won't condemn us under your jurisdiction. I would've thought he'd go to Tsu first, if anything."

Her expression was scathing. "And what exactly do you know?"

"More than—"

"Kid!" Tsubaki cut in.

Kid nodded at Tsubaki before running his golden eyes over the room in one swift movement. His tone was soft yet commanding in a way a natural born leader would provide as he said, "Azazel has his reasons, and we obey. Just eat and I'm sure you'll have enough time to question him later."

Maka was sure she would've missed it if she had blinked, but she hadn't, so the brief flash that came with Kim's furious exit out of the room still rang in the back of her eyelids. The cat-eyed girl pouted at Kid before running after her friend. Nobody else moved.

"Um, what's for dinner?" Maka asked the girls beside her as casually as she could manage.

Tsubaki was the first to tear her eyes away from the door. "Steak today, I think," she said thoughtfully. "Our chef is an absolutely amazing cook, and he never fails to keep my stomach satisfied."

"I second that," Liz put in.

"Sid _is_ the best," Patty agreed dreamily which earned a snort from somewhere around the room. "His chicken burgers are absolutely to die for."

"Oh, but, um," Maka interjected, almost embarrassedly, "I'm a vegetarian."

If there was anyone who _wasn't_ watching her before, now she was sure all eyes were looking at the same prey. _Perfect_, she thought sardonically. _Now I'm even more of a freak show elephant like _Dumbo_. There could've been at least one other vegetarian in the house, but of course I'm the only pickle. _

"Wait a second, you're a veggie-eater?" one girl asked, wrinkling her nose.

Even Hiro was looking at her like she was an alien. "Seriously? How can you stand not eating meat at all? What kind of person can _do_ that?"

"Hey, it's not a crime or anything," Maka muttered with mild annoyance. Have they really never seen a person who didn't eat the same things they did?

"I think it's great," Kid said. Though she should've been grateful to the boy who took all the attention off of her, Maka couldn't help her head snapping up to stare at Kid with as much incredulity as everyone else.

"You do?"

Kid merely smiled back. "Of course. I've always wanted to try abstaining from meat, but I've never had the self-control to stay away from any of Sid's meals. It's a lot harder than it looks like."

"Tell me about it," she said with a roll of her eyes. She remembered her father attempting to adjust his diet to fit hers once, and failing miserably after only five hours—the apparently _long_ amount of time away from his favorite foods caused the man to go on an all out binge on burgers just after. Maka almost laughed at the memory.

Then she remembered that her father along with all the crazy moments they shared together was gone and she found herself holding back tears instead of a laugh.

Tsubaki seemed to notice she was recalling past events because she put her hand reassuringly on Maka's shoulder. Maka smiled weakly in return.

"I'll go check with Sid to add some meat-free entrées to the menu," Kid attested, already out of his chair and heading to the door that connected the grand room to the kitchen.

"No!" Maka shook her head and ignored the already familiar stares she earned from her outburst. "It's okay," she told him. "I don't want him to have to cook just for me. Everyone's probably already hungry, and it's not fair if I delay dinner any longer."

"It's—" Kid started, but Maka cut him off.

"Don't worry about it; I'm totally fine." She edged towards the door, ducking under Tsubaki's hand. "I ate before I came anyways. My stomach's still full."

He seemed to ponder it before he sighed, "Well, I guess if you're not hungry, we can't force you to eat. But I promise we'll have something prepared for you tomorrow—"

"Thanks!" she quipped and slid quickly out of the room. She tried to keep her feet light against the hardwood floors, but also being in a hurry, it wasn't exactly successful. Maka pushed the worried looks the girls had given her out of her head as she rushed past more doors. She hoped she could come up with a reason for running out so fast before they came to check on her later. Truthfully, she wasn't sure herself why she was so eager to leave. All she knew was that she had to get out of there.

_Oh great_. Maka stopped looked around, realizing she had no idea where her room was. Frowning slightly at her feet for carrying her in the wrong direction, she started to backtrack on her trail, trusting her gut that this somewhat recognizable hall wasn't the right one.

"She's different."

Maka froze at the sound of the familiar voice that came from through the door to her right. She stayed absolutely still and prayed to God that she wouldn't be heard.

"I can tell, Jacqueline," Kim's voice continued to say. "Her energy is different. Her control. Her levels. And she's obviously strong, if Az chose her."

"Az has been wrong before," an abnormally high voice tried to soothe.

"No," she snapped, "he hasn't. He's chosen unwilling participants before, but never anyone who was less than noteworthy."

"Kim, just try to think this through. She's not the only new girl. Why do you think she's any more special than anyone else? She doesn't even _know_!"

Maka's eyes widened and she scanned the hallway for anyone else. It was empty. She held her breath and lifted her foot to take a step.

"I know she's about as clueless as a brat," Kim said and Maka silently scowled. It was obvious they were talking about her, but they didn't have to be so rude about it. She took another step. "—but maybe that could work to her advantage too. I mean—"

With a few more strides, Maka was around the corner and bolted into a light run. She didn't care if anyone heard her anymore; she just wanted to go back to her room and pretend she hadn't heard a thing.

She hated eavesdroppers.

A floor below her, she could hear a loud conversations taking place followed by the sound of a boom and a crash. Maka tried not to think about what it was as she threaded through the maze with only a faint path drawn in her mind. All the doors looked way too much alike.

"What do you mean we can't—!" There was another deep grumble below her and she heard a chorus of "shut up" from the dining room, but Maka barely registered why the house seemed to shake as she rushed into the surprisingly comforting design of her new bedroom.

Burying her head deep into her pillow, Maka wondered how the heck she got herself involved in such a mess.


	3. Chapter Two

**I combined the next two chapters because I wanted you guys to meet Soul and love him as much as I do. Wes also makes an appearance, and let's just say I had fun playing around with his character.**

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**CHAPTER TWO**

She frowned at her reflection in the glass. But the bell was already ringing for the second time that morning, and she could almost hear Tsubaki offering to come get her again from downstairs, so Maka just sighed, saw the annoyance in her own brown eyes and rushed down the mahogany staircase.

At exactly six o'clock that morning, the three girls had burst into Maka's room, announcing that they had to get ready to go to school soon. Having stayed up late together talking about stories in Shibusen Prep Academy together after the semi-awkward dinner, Maka was tired and groggy, but she was somehow the only one and had to be practically pushed into one of the (very many) washrooms.

After a quick shower, Maka was only slightly more awake as she trudged back to her room to get dressed. But having only so few clothes after the accident, she was stuck with some of her mom's old jeans and an oversized sweater.

_So much for first impressions_, she thought as she poked her tiny fingers through the sleeve, rolling it up so she could actually see her hands.

"Morning, Maka," a little girl chirped cheerfully as she passed. The first thing Maka noticed was that she was genuinely smiling and that her eyes were just a regular brown instead of an exotic shade like almost everyone else. Since she didn't even know the girl's name, Maka settled for a small wave and noted mentally to find out who everyone in the Star house was. And if they had ever been admitted into a mental hospital at any point of their lives, 'cause that would totally make more sense.

The long table that was large enough to fit thirty—or maybe more—looked slightly different than it had the night before. Gone were the white tablecloths and the neatly set up cutlery and porcelain plates, the whole fancy candles and centerpieces no longer present. People still sat around the long wooden table, but it seemed to be less dressy and with platters of fruits set up evenly apart on top, Maka thought that the theme changed completely from 'fancy dinner' to 'casual breakfast.' She wondered what kind of theme they'd have for lunch on weekends.

Holidays, she guessed, probably had their own special designed plates. The thought made her giggle.

"Hi, Kitten!"

There was only one person in the entire house who called her by that ridiculous nickname, so Maka just plopped into the seat beside her without even looking up. "Hi, Patty."

"Are you excited for school?"

"From the way you described it, I'm not exactly thrilled."

"Oh, come on," Liz said, leaning forward so she could grin at her from around Tsubaki, "we were mostly exaggerating. Except about the curriculum. And the strict teachers. Okay, so most of the stories were true, but hey! We had fun."

"Yes, because getting a week's worth of detention for being late for class sounds like lots of fun." Maka pushed her sleeve up again from sliding down.

"It really depends who you have detention _with_," she said wickedly, then added almost as an afterthought, "And you only get detention if you're late because you decided to blow up the chem labs the period before!"

"That was _so_ not on purpose!" Patty protested.

Liz waved that away. "I'm sure it wasn't, Pat. It just happened to burn Mr. Bruno's eyebrows off—no biggie. Point is, Shibusen Prep, despite being made solely for overachieved heirs and heiresses, is actually lovable. We have lots of memories there."

"You'll have fun," Tsubaki agreed. "Az would only choose the best school for his kids to go to."

"So we're kids of this Azazel person now?" Maka asked. "Is it weird that I've never met him before? Or is he usually this busy?"

The look passed between the other three girls was not missed. "No," Patty answered slowly, carefully, like she was weighing how much she should say. "He's pretty busy, so sometimes he can't make it back to greet our new family members right away. But I promise you'll meet him soon."

"Yeah, we usually only see him before dinner, anyways," Liz acceded.

"This seems like some kind of sorority house," Maka mumbled.

Tsubaki laughed softly. "Sort of."

Maka studied how they all shifted and seemed uncomfortable on the topic of the owner of the home. It was obvious there was something she wasn't getting, and she couldn't help but think that they should at least be better at hiding it as she shrugged. "Sure."

Leaning back in her chair, she closed her eyes and wished that she didn't have to return to school so quickly. It was only a little over a week, after all, since the accident. She wished people would've been a little more sympathetic, but she also liked how nobody in the house tried interrogating her about it, or mentioned it at all. Like they were used to it. Like they knew how it felt.

And maybe they did. After all, this was a home for children who didn't have parents, so Maka could only guess that they knew to leave it until she was ready. But the one thing that bothered her about this place was how it was so _selective_. She remembered having a friend who had lost her parents just like she did, but the girl was never sent to a place quite like this. It was a group home, sure, but not as luxurious or unique as what she saw here.

_What makes me so special?_ Maka asked herself endless times. Then again, would losing her parents and being forced to attend this place and an apparently challenging academy be considered special? Perhaps not.

"Do you want to stay home today?" a voice asked quietly by her head.

Maka instantly spun around to see Kid standing behind her chair with a worried expression on his face. She shook her head.

"Are you sure?" he asked. "If you don't feel ready to face school right now, we'd all understand. In fact, it'd make us feel a lot less intimidated. Personally, I stayed home a week after arriving here in eighth grade before I came out of my room." He laughed.

Beside her, Tsubaki smiled. "I remember that. You were such a spoiled brat back then, Kid. Whiny and annoyingly arrogant."

"Seriously?" Maka couldn't imagine this boy, so calm and collected and seeming much more mature that her, as anything else.

"I _was_ a pretty rotten child," Kid admitted with a grin.

"That's hard to believe."

His smile widened. "Thanks. So it's up to you when you feel like going."

"I think I'm ready." And it was true. She had spent three days straight after learning the tragic news cooped up in her loaned room before hunger took over and she chased after food in the small home she had been stuck in before she came to the Star house. It should've been natural, Maka knew, to mourn for her deceased parents, but part of her wanted to move on. A few days later, hard as it was, she had emerged fully from her room with tear-stained cheeks and no smile hinting on her pale lips.

This time, she wanted it to be different.

This time, she wouldn't cry in front of anybody.

Kid nodded. "That's good." Then he pointed at the door where a man dressed in white was rolling a large coaster of food to the side, and all the kids in the room got up to fill their plates. "Let's eat. I had Sid prepare a special vegetarian meal for you today."

Maka flushed, embarrassed. "No, that's alright. Just some toast with butter would've been totally fine; I'm not much of a breakfast person." At his frown, she quickly added, "But thanks for going to the trouble. I'm just not used to it, is all. What do you guys usually have for breakfast?"

"We," Liz said, pushing herself out of her chair, "eat eggs and sausages. I'm sure Sid prepared some of his awesome pancakes for you."

"Bingo," Kid chuckled. He led the way to join the long line of ravenous teenagers, the four girls just a step behind them. "Blueberry, to be exact."

"Then how could I possibly resist?"

Maka rocked back on her heels as they waited patiently for the line to move. She was faintly aware of the others ahead of them throwing glances of their shoulders, probably scrutinizing her horrible fashion sense and lack of makeup. Compared to everyone else's perfect wardrobe, Maka felt like Raggedy Anne to their Barbie Doll.

Liz shifted her weight and clipped her eyes ahead of them as if she were just tired and incredibly bored, but Maka could tell by the way everyone quickly averted their attention elsewhere that the low sound had something to do with it. The way her friends were trying to be subtle in keeping the attention off her made Maka smile.

But her interest was short lived when Liz turned back and wrinkled her nose in disgust at Maka, who had to roll up her unwinding sleeve again. "What are you wearing? That sweater looks at least five sizes too big, and those jeans are probably older than you!"

She merely shrugged, unnerved by the insult. "It's all I have."

Her expression softened slightly as Maka took a small step, the line moving in a slow but progressing pace. Then Liz put a hand up in the air as if to command all attention on her as she announced fruitfully, "Fine, but we'll have to take you shopping soon. I can't one of my friends looking like that."

She scoffed. "Thanks."

"No problem, dear!" Liz waved her hand in a way that made Tsubaki laugh.

"You look like a ballerina, Liz."

"And you, Miss Tsubaki, look like a sinful angel." She gestured towards Tsubaki's fitting attire, consisting of a flowy white sundress, which was truly angel-like, the only thing ruining it being the studded leather jacket thrown over top.

Kid looked offended. "I got her that jacket for her birthday last summer."

Patty poked Tsubaki's shoulder playfully. "I, for one, think it compliments her well. 'Baki needs a little more danger in her look—can you really imagine her wearing that—" She shuddered exaggeratedly. "—_thing_ she bought at the market last weekend?"

Now it was Tsubaki who frowned. "Hey, I thought it was cute."

"It looked like something my grandmother would've made," Patty said. "Y'know, if I had a grandmother, that is."

"You guys are so judgmental," Tsubaki said scornfully, but she was smiling. "Come on, load your plate so we can eat and not be late for school. You guys know that Azusa isn't going to wait for us if we aren't there at exactly seven thirty."

"Azusa's our chauffeur," Liz said to Maka. "She takes us to and from school, although we have to be on the dot or she leaves without us."

"We leave at seven thirty? But doesn't school start at half past eight?"

She shook her head. "Nope! At Shibusen, we start at eight sharp."

"Here's all that 'at Shibusen' stuff again," Maka muttered, using her fork to stab a few blueberry pancakes onto her plate. "One minute you guys say it's a hell load of fun, and the next it sounds like a complete prison. I don't know what to believe, though I definitely know which one I'd prefer."

Kid frowned at the other three girls. "You guys have been telling her stories, haven't you?"

Patty pilled scrambled eggs all over her plate. "We haven't spilled the deets on the time you accidentally sent a boy into a coma during a soccer game if that's what you mean." She paused and grinned widely. "Okay, so maybe we did."

"That's not what I meant," Kid insisted, but Maka noticed the prick of red on the back of his neck. "And it was an accident."

"Didn't I say it was?"

Liz and Patty laughed and pushed past the boy, who was blushing wildly, so they could get to the sausages. Maka held in the reflex to gag—she's been a vegetarian ever since she was a little girl after learned the animal cruelty used to grow the animals quickly only to use them as meat later, and had learned to hate the smell of greasy meats.

Following Liz and Patty as they headed back to their seats, Maka noticed how the Japanese girl stayed behind everyone slightly. Tsubaki patted Kid lightly on the back before passing him in the line as well. "Kid, it wasn't a big deal," she assured softly. "Fill the rest of your plate and meet us back at our spot, alright?"

Maka hid a smile and hurried after the other girls.

* * *

Turned out, they weren't exaggerating when they said their chauffeur waited for no one. Maka and the others had made it into the long limo—yes, _limo_—on time with their backpacks (she had received one from the girls filled with colorful supplies and a few copies of their latest notes, which she had repeatedly thanked them for), but unfortunately, three of the seniors hadn't.

"Don't worry about them," Tsubaki had told her, "they know the rules. If they choose to stay back a few minutes, they would also have a backup ride to school."

So she tried to comply.

And she set her watch a few minutes ahead, just in case.

Sitting beside Liz and Patty and across from Tsubaki and Kid, Maka felt slightly more comfortable that she would have four friends in her grade that could help her if she needed it—not that they hadn't assisted her countless times already. She'd only been there a day and already she had such great friends.

Then again, she also apparently had an enemy.

Kim, she had been told, and the cat-eyed girl beside her—Jacqueline, she remembered—were the only two others in their grade. Seven out of twenty-one being juniors like her should have been comforting odds, but even with the others beside her, Maka still felt self-conscious under Kim's not-so-kind stares from the other side of the row.

She just kept quiet with her gaze glued to the floor.

"We're here!"

The limo swerved and Maka clutched the seat, waiting for a crash, when she realized that no one else was worried and the vehicle came to an abrupt stop.

"Azusa's a pretty rough driver," Tsubaki whispered to her. "You'll get used to it."

"I hope so," she murmured back, clutching the strap of her bag over her shoulders and climbing out of the shiny black door behind them. The cool air hit her as soon as she was out of the heated limo, making her shiver. Compared to Florida, this place was much colder.

"Welcome to Shibusen Prep Academy!" Patty exclaimed, linking her arm through Maka's and pulling her along away from the speedy vehicle. "So what do you think of this ah-_maz_ing school?"

She rolled her eyes, but let herself be dragged along. "Patty, I've barely seen any of it, and classes hadn't even started." Then Maka stopped mid-step and gawked at the building that loomed over her. It was freakin' _huge_. If she ever thought the Star mansion was big, this school would quickly erase it. The place was at least ten times bigger than her old school, and the student count was obviously large judging by the amount of cars filing into the huge parking lot and all the students walking up to the main building.

"Wow…"

Kid nudged her with his elbow. "I'm guessing you like it?"

"It's huge," she breathed.

"I know, right?" Tsubaki laughed softly as she looked over the perfectly manicured grounds as if it were her very first day, too. "Just wait until you see the inside. You'll love it."

"This town is crazy," Maka said, shaking her head. "Absolutely crazy."

Patty started to tug her along again, giggling like a little girl as she tried to—unsuccessfully—get Maka to skip along with her. "Come on, Kitten, lighten up! Sure, it's a little nerve racking on your first day, but what could possibly go wrong?"

"Oh, God, don't ask that question!" she groaned. "That's what somebody always says in the movies before something goes completely wrong!" The moment everyone burst out laughing at her profession, Maka flushed with embarrassment, realizing too late how ridiculous that sounded.

"You believe in that stuff?" Kid asked, an unmistakable amusement in his tone. "I didn't take you for the movie stereotype kind of person."

Maka huffed and let a few strands of her blond hair fall into her face, praying that her cheeks weren't as red as the warmth she felt indicated. "My parents and I used to have Scary Movie Fridays, all right? I've been raised on movie stereotypes. Dad was the biggest believer." There was a sudden pause and she realized that they were probably waiting for her to burst into tears or something, but it honestly felt good to remember her parents in that way so she shrugged and asked, "What?"

Patty laughed harder. "Aw, that's so funny! No, don't look at the ground—I really think it's awesome that you're into scary movies. It's cute."

"Yay," she said blandly. "Cute."

Liz latched onto Maka's other arm. "I bet that if you told a guy that, he'd totally love you for it. A girl who can withstand a horror film is a total turn on." She flicked her gaze to Kid and grinned wickedly. "Dontcha think, Kid?"

Since he had been watching Maka carefully ever since her declaration, it took Liz a few waves in front of his face to catch his attention. He blinked. "Uh, sorry, what did you say?"

"I take that as a yes!" Patty and Liz both squealed and dragged Maka faster ahead, ignoring Kid's protests and the stares they were receiving from all the passing bystanders. Everyone in a fifty foot radius could hear the two girls' screams and Maka ducked her head even though she should've been used to being under questioning observations.

She tugged on her friends' arms, trying to slow down their quick jumping. "Shh! People are staring!"

"Maybe it's because you look like a doll, hon," Liz cooed.

"Absolutely adorable," Patty agreed, reaching out to pinch her cheeks.

Maka dodged the offending hands and scanned the school ground quickly. A group of girls waved to her—she smiled shyly back and gave a small wave in return before picking up her pace to fall in line with the others. Behind her, she could hear Kid discussing something quietly with Tsubaki.

The sun was shining, the air was crisp. Maka's wrists were shackled with Patty and Liz's fingers and she had to fight the urge to roll up her sleeves again in a nervous action as the stone path to the school's main doors seemed to drag on forever. Her eyes never strayed from the gray grounds.

She let out a sigh of relief as soon as they made it into the school. She couldn't remember a time she'd ever been so nervous—and to be completely honest, Maka knew she wasn't exactly the boldest girl alive. But even though having her friends by her side was the only thing that encouraged her to keep walking, she knew that they'd have to part sometime.

"I'm gonna head over to pick up my schedule from the main office," Maka announced as soon as Tsubaki and Kid caught up. "If I don't have any classes with you first block, I'll see you at lunch?"

"Brave girl," Liz praised. "Offering to go through the academy of doom on your own—stupid, but brave."

"Okay, now you're starting to scare me."

Kid laughed. "She's trying to. Don't worry; the only scary thing about Shibusen is that you'll get lost a lot—especially in the first few weeks. Actually, I'd advise you not to go anywhere at all without one of us with you. We might never find you again."

She dismissed his comment. "I'll be fine."

"Maybe, but I'll walk you to the office at least," Kid said, slinging his pack farther over his shoulder. "I don't want you being late for your first day of classes because you don't even have a map of the school."

Maka smiled appreciatively at him. She was actually relieved to not have to run around such a big school with no direction by herself. "Thanks."

He shrugged and turned to the other girls. "I'll see you in calc." To Maka, he asked, "Ready?" She nodded, gave a little wave to the other girls, and followed him as he led the way.

After a few minutes walking side by side down the wide hallways, Maka immediately regretted allowing Kid to escort her. Sure, she had been under constant surveillance the moment she stepped on school grounds, but being seen with _him_ seemed to just increase the number significantly. Girls went out of their way to say hi to him and flash flirty smiles he didn't even register, and a few guys came up to chat him up about the next 'game.'

When he told them he was busy showing Maka around, she felt like a frog under a microscope—girls glared and the guys probably wondered why Kid was with such a plain-looking girl.

One thing Maka was absolutely positive of was that he was popular. Another was that he didn't even realize it.

She was more comfortable about the second thing.

"This is one of the ninth grade science labs," Kid provided as they walked by a closed door labeled with a bunch of letters and numbers, then he pointed to another door marked the same way. "This room is for tenth graders; it's mostly just one of the free rooms used for analytical studying."

"I have a question." Maka lowered her voice to a whisper as soon as everyone around craned their necks at the sound of her voice. "Why aren't they just labeled 'science room' or 'math room' or whatever? What's with all the numbers and such?"

He paused. "Shibusen just—"

"Oh, never mind; I get it now," she muttered, causing Kid to bellow a laugh.

"This is just an extremely high standard school—admission is tight and selection is picky. It may look like it has a lot of students, but that's only because it admits from all over the world, not just the US. Everyone applies, but you're only so lucky to get in."

"Really? How come I've never heard of it before?" Maka wondered aloud. "Wait a second, how did I get in then? I didn't even apply!"

"_You_ didn't have to," a girl snorted as she passed. Maka slapped a hand over her mouth belatedly, and a couple of snickers ran through the hallway.

"What did she mean I didn't have to?" she whispered.

Kid cupped a hand over his mouth exaggeratedly and said, "Since you're now a part of the Star family, it automatically gives you an acceptance to Shibusen. Don't ask why. There are just a few people who can be admitted without having to excel in anything at all. We were all like that."

"But that doesn't seem fair."

"It's not," he agreed, but didn't go into any details. He didn't offer any more info on the undeniably abstruse concept of why being a part of this particular foster home made them special amongst all the other students. So Maka remained silent too and avoided catching any more attention than she already received.

She was starting to believe what her friends had said when they told her that going off by herself in the school would be a complete and utter mistake. It took more turns than she bothered to count, stares from every hall they passed through, many doors with complicated labels, and scarily identical hallways before Kid finally stopped and said, "This is the main office."

"Thank God," she breathed. "I was starting to think you were leading me around in circles. How exactly did you manage to memorize this building again?"

He shrugged nonchalantly. "I came here in eighth grade."

Maka frowned in confusion. "Eighth grade? But isn't this a high school?"

"Yes, but like I said, we're exceptions. I just took a few classes in advance, is all. But, yeah, I've been here since I was thirteen."

That was a little strange. "Really? What if someone came when they were, say, I dunno, smaller? Like grade three small. Wouldn't they go to some other elementary school around here instead?"

Kid held the door open to signal her in, and the change in air temperature seemed so anticlimactic it was almost bizarre how a small snow figure could stay frozen from its post on the secretary's desk. Was it fake? Maka couldn't be sure—the thing glistened in a way that made her think it wasn't.

Then it turned its circular head around winked a small black eye at her. She froze, but neither Kid nor the woman behind the desk seemed to notice it, so Maka wondered if it was maybe just a figment of her imagination.

Kid shook his head. "No. Even if they're really young, Az still registers them to attend classes here at Shibusen, just more private and unique lessons. I'm not exactly sure what they do here, but you can ask Tsubaki. After all, she's been here since she was eight."

* * *

At the last school she had gone to before, Maka tried not to attract any attention to herself. She laid low, didn't talk to very many people, didn't make any eye contact at all, and tried to keep to herself in class except when the teacher called for her answer. She had honestly not wanted any attention—and most of the time she got that wish.

But that did not seem like the case at Shibusen.

Math, room 3205-A6-419, was her homeroom. To be completely ingenuous, Maka was not a fan of math. At all. Numbers didn't like her, and the feeling was completely mutual. That it had to be the first class of the day made her feel like God was trying to punish her for not abiding her mourns longer.

_It just doesn't feel like they're really gone. _

And added to the fact that every single living being in the huge setup whirled around to glare openly at her as soon as she walked through the door, Maka felt that it was safe to say that her first day wasn't going very well.

"Sorry," she mumbled to the teacher, her cheeks aflame under the non-subtle stares from all directions, even though she was exactly five minutes early. Were they seriously so overachieved that they had to look down on whoever didn't arrive as early as they did?

After picking up her schedule from the semi-scary woman behind the desk in the main office, Kid had compared her first semester classes to his and the other three girls and notified that the only class they had together was last-period English. It wasn't exactly a happy revelation.

He had offered to walk her to her first class, but since his advanced calculus with Tsubaki and Patty was on the exact opposite side of campus, Maka didn't want him to be late because of her so she sent him of his way. It took her ten minutes and about a million glances at the map of the school to lead her to the right room, but finally, she had made it.

Completely attached? She wasn't so sure.

Maka blushed shyly, moving around a white-haired boy who had his legs stuck out into the middle of the isle, eyes closed, and slipped into an empty seat in the back corner beside the window. She started pulling a thick notebook out of her bag and was relieved when she heard the teacher clap for the class's attention to the front and away from her.

But her relief quickly fled when the man proclaimed, "I'm sure you've all noticed that we have a new student today." There was a snicker from the class as he continued, "Why don't you come up in front of the class and introduce yourself, little miss in the back?"

_The sadistic bastard! _

She made a small noise and leaned back in her chair. "Do I have to?"

This time even the teacher's lips quirked up. "Yes."

Groaning, she pushed herself up, quipped, "My name's Maka Albarn," before plopping back down as quick as she could possibly move. The class's rumbling laughs seemed almost ten times louder than they actually were, bouncing off the thick, soundproof walls and ringing in her ears like a bell. "No need to laugh," she mumbled under her breath, and by the way everyone kept with their laughter, she knew no one heard it.

"Enough, class!" the teacher ordered, immediately silencing them. "We've wasted enough time here—get into your seats and open to a fresh page. We have a long note today before I have to leave for a meeting. You'll have the rest of the period to work on the homework."

In her chair, Maka waited for the sound of cheers or moans or whatever—anything in reaction to the teacher's semi-good news, but the class stayed silent and so did she. It was weird, though; at her other school, the children were so rudely behaved and free-willed that it almost made the class fun. The kids here complied without so much of a sigh.

Doing exactly as her teacher instructed, Maka held back a smile at the notes neatly scribbled across the first few pages of her math notebook. Maybe even more than a few—it seemed as if every lesson since school had started was rewritten on the blue lined pages, in a script so neat that it was almost hard to believe. Would they really go to so much trouble to make sure that she didn't fall behind?

She found a better question: Did they really want her to stay so much?

At the time, it seemed so significant to find the answer to that question, as if everything else was so simple that she couldn't find another problem to stress over. Later she would realize how wasted that concern was.

As the teacher—Mr. Brocker, as he introduced himself—went swiftly through the lesson, Maka realized that she actually _was_ well prepared for the courses. When they had been constantly moving, Maka missed lots of school so her mother would fill in the gaps with her own extended lessons. Maka had repeatedly complained that she would never need to know how to calculate the square root of a rational number in her life, but now she was proven wrong.

Turns out, there _was_ a teacher evil enough to assign an entire worksheet on it. With several assigned textbook questions and not a single extra explanation for the new girl, Mr. Brocker left twenty-two overly capable teenagers to work in silence.

It was almost scary how quiet her classmates were. They all immediately went to work without any questions, completely focused on the task at hand. As Maka glanced around the room, she found that only one student wasn't working as furiously as the others besides herself.

He was the boy who had been sleeping when she first came in. It was so obvious he wasn't taking any measures to hide his nap, and for some reason the teacher hadn't called him out on it. No one did. Still asleep, the boy's lean frame was stretched out, legs blocking the aisle and hands laced behind his head. With his stark white hair and black leather jacket, he looked like the typical bad boy in all of the teen movies she had watched before.

As if sensing her gaze, his eyes snapped open and turned to meet hers. Maka nearly jumped five feet in the air, stopped only by the instinct to avoid embarrassment, because his gaze was so fierce for someone who had just woken up. The red irises were vibrant and clear, almost soul-sucking. She dropped her head, her study sheets suddenly becoming very interesting to her.

But she could still feel him watching her. The rest of the long hour droned on and on, and although Maka tried to keep as focused on her work as her classmates, she couldn't do anything without feeling self-conscious under the angry boy's scrutiny.

_Tick tock, tick tock, tick tock…_

_Ring! _

"Oh, thank God," Maka breathed. She shoved her books into her bag and slung it over her shoulder, eager to rush out of the room. She was nearly the first one out when someone grabbed her roughly by the shoulder and yanked her back. Yelping, she dropped her bag and shot her hands out to catch herself, but the strong hand held her up before she could hit the ground.

The other students in her class shot her a look on their way out, but none of them stopped to stare. They seemed to be in a rush to get out of there. The room was completely empty when the hand released her and she could move again.

Bruises purpled on her arm but she refused to recognize the pain as she spun to glare at the person who had grabbed her. It was the sleeping red-eyed boy.

"What do you want?" she said between her teeth.

A moment passed. Maka opened her mouth to speak again, impatient with his silence, but he cut her off. "Who said I want something?"

"Why else would you have grabbed me like that?" she retorted, already grabbing her backpack and inching towards the door. Controlling her anger seemed near impossible around this boy. His indifferent expression and bored stance was just so irritating. "Are you going to say something or can I go and not be late for my next class?"

For a split second, a flicker or emotion flashed across the boy's face. Then it was gone before she could determine what it was. "I'm irritating you," he observed slowly and Maka nearly growled.

"Yes, and enjoying it too!"

"You're ridiculous."

"And _you're_ annoying," Maka said impatiently. The clock was ticking behind her and he wasn't letting her forget it. "Can you please just tell me what you want so I can get to class before the bell rings? I'd rather not be late on my first day. Avoiding attention is hard enough without interrupting a lecture."

He shrugged, abruptly bored. Something dark flashed in contrast to the pale skin on his neck—a tattoo? "I just wanted to see what all the hype was about. Everyone has been talking about the new girl all morning." His eyes glazed over her and she shivered. "You're not exactly what I expected."

Her cheeks flamed. She opened her mouth to say something—anything—but he was already pushing past her, halfway out the door when she regained her ability to speak. "Wait!" she called. "You know who I am. At least tell me your name. You owe me that much."

"I don't owe you anything," he said without turning around. And then he was gone.

Maka stood frozen staring at the doorway. Flushed with anger and embarrassment, she could only clench her fists and wonder what the heck his problem was.

The bell rang.

* * *

"Well, you look like you had a great first day."

Maka groaned and dropped her forehead to the table. "Kill me now."

Patty grinned. "That bad?"

"That bad," she confirmed.

"Gonna tell me what happened?"

"I'd rather not."

"If that makes you feel better."

"It doesn't."

"So you're okay?"

"I never said that."

"Geez, Kitten, you're killing me! Was it really that bad?"

She didn't answer. It was lunchtime and Maka was sitting at a table in the cafeteria with Patty while the rest of the gang lined up to buy food. Patty claimed to not be hungry, saying that she had eaten an entire cake during her history class for one of her classmates' projects, and opted for a can of pop. Maka had just lost her appetite completely.

After her petty encounter with that red-eyed boy, Maka had been late for second period science. The teacher had only given her a stern look before continuing with her lesson, ignoring the new girl completely; with the students, Maka hadn't been so lucky. She had been on the receiving end of many glares for the rest of the class. It was safe to say that her nerves were rightfully earned.

"You know, your first day shouldn't have been that bad," Patty commented lightly. "If it was, just tell me and I'm sure we can work it out so no one will bother you anymore."

"I wish," Maka mumbled.

"It's true. One benefit of being a part of the Star family is that nobody can really blame you for anything. You can skip class every once in a while if you don't feel like going. You can fail and still not be kicked out. Hell, you can sleep in the middle of class, snoring like a bear, and the teacher won't be able to say a thing."

Maka frowned. Minus the 'snoring like a bear' part, that red-eyed guy had been doing the same act of rebellion. "That doesn't seem fair," she said, feeling a slight sense of déjà vu. "We get into this school without application and don't even have to _try_ to stay? And everyone else has to work their butts off to even attend?"

"Yup." Patty popped her bubble gum and smiled. "It's strictly a no-pressure system. No one here really bothers us if we don't want to be bothered."

"Again: unfair. Why do we get special treatment just because we live in the Star house?" _And is having constant stares on my back considered 'not bothering'? _she added silently.

Shrugging, Patty sipped her Coke and glanced to the side the exact moment their other three companions arrived at the table. "Hey, guys!"

"Patty." Kid nodded and smiled, taking the seat to her left. "Maka."

"How's your first day going?" Liz asked. When Maka groaned, her eyebrows shot up. "Something happen?"

"She won't say," Patty piped in, stealing a few fries of Tsubaki's plate. "Something big, I'm guessing, if it's enough to make our Kitten depressed."

"Did you tell her—"

"That we could kick the asses of anyone who bothers her again? Yeah, I did."

Kid frowned. "Not in those exact words though, right?"

"Relax, Kid. I only explained a few privileges of being a Star girl."

He cocked his head to the side. "Is it that bad then?"

"It's not." Maka sighed. "I'm just being overdramatic, I guess. I ran into this really rude guy who made me late for chemistry, and then I had to sit there for an entire hour playing the bug under a microscope."

"Really rude guy?" Liz and Patty echoed simultaneously.

"White hair, red eyes, supernatural ability to piss me off with less than three words," she replied, and looked up in time to see the look passed between all of the members of the table. "What?"

Tsubaki was the one to speak, and when she did her voice was worried. "It would have to be Wes, right? There's no way—"

Liz shook her head. "Wes is in my first period. There's no way he could've been in hers."

"But that means…"

"Was he wearing all black and probably a leather jacket, not bothering to pay attention to the lesson?" Patty asked Maka. "Maybe even sleeping?"

"Yes?"

"Soul," they all said at once.

Maka was confused. "What—"

"His name is Soul Evans," Liz explained. "He's from the Reaper house. Our rival house."

"We have a rival house?"

"Yes." Her response was clipped, like she was holding back what she was going to say at the last minute. "Long-time rivals and all that. They attend Shibusen, too, and have the same privileges as we do. They just don't like us very much and the feeling is mutual." Liz forced a smile. "I suggest you avoid anyone who's a Reaper; they're all bad news."

"Wait, what's all this with a rivalry? I just got here and I don't exactly feel comfortable with having enemies."

"Enemies," Patty mused. "Nice word choice."

She didn't take the bait. "Who are the Reapers?"

"When you say it like that, you make us sound like prey." Liz leaned forward to prop her elbows on the table, her gaze excruciatingly serious. Maka was immediately wary. "Do you know that forest behind our house? The one in front of your bedroom window?" Maka nodded. "Yeah, well on the other side of that is where the Reaper house is. It's a group home just like ours but they don't think the same way we do. While we try our best to live up to Az's expectations—"

"With the exception of a few spontaneous disruptions," quipped Patty.

Liz ignored her. "—the kids of the Reaper house make it their personal game to be as rowdy as possible. If you think people are cautious enough around us, you should see them around the Reapers. They tend to wreak havoc and everyone has the smarts to ignore them."

"I never said I had smarts, but I think I'll try my best to stay away," Maka said. "That Soul kid didn't exactly set a great impression."

Tsubaki exhaled in relief. "That's good. I wish I could tell you how dangerous they are, but… There are really no words to explain it. I don't know why Soul would go out of his way to bug you, though. He's usually not the one to…" She shook her head, as if dismissing a thought. "Please understand, Maka. We don't want you to get hurt."

"Okay." She paused. "But how am I supposed to know who to avoid? If they have as many kids as the Star house does, compared to the wide range of student alumni there aren't exactly many. I don't have a built-in radar that deters me away from creepy rivals that I've never met before."

"That's easy," said Patty. "They're the only ones here who dare to stand up to the teachers besides ourselves. So if you don't recognize the kid who back-talks in class as one of our housemates, then it's almost definitely a Reaper. Or if they pick on you, for that matter. Chances are that they'll know you're one of us—those snarky asses will be the ones you weed out."

"Also, their eyes." Liz looked meaningfully at her, but Maka failed to understand. "The eyes of any Reaper are bound to be like ours. Bright. Colorful. Unusual." She gestured to her pale orbs for emphasis.

"But you shouldn't have to worry about that," Tsubaki quickly added. "They know better than to torment a newbie. It's against the rules."

Before Maka could ask for an elaboration, Patty said, "Basically you're untouchable. The Reapers shouldn't bother you while you're new here, but they are the only ones to intentionally bother us. The regulars wouldn't dare."

"So what do you call all this staring?" Maka asked, gesturing her hand around the cafeteria where most of its students were facing their table.

"This, my dear, is called admiration."

"Looks more like contempt to me."

Tsubaki laughed. "They're always like that when there's a new kid."

"Especially a Star child," Liz added.

"They want to know if you're worthy," Kid put in cheekily.

"Worthy? Wow, I guess I failed that test."

All four teenagers burst out laughing at her expense and it took all she had to keep from joining in. These people were so nice to her—much more so than Maka had ever known. Even though she had just learned she had adversaries that weren't even hers to start with, she couldn't help but think that maybe her new friends could make it worth it.

Maybe, for once in her life, Maka could belong.

"You're so ridiculous," Liz said, but not without affection.

"Yes, absolutely, totally, and ridiculously _cute_!" Patty threw her arms around the girl's neck, and Maka squealed in alarm as they nearly fell over.

"Patty!" She struggled uselessly to get out of her death grip, gripping the edge of the table to keep from tumbling off the bench. Patty continued to gush the most absurd compliments, oblivious to Maka's discomfort and flaming cheeks—or maybe just enjoying it. "That's it!" She managed to duck her head free and was on her feet. "I'm gonna go get ready for class."

"But we still have ten minutes—"

Kid cut her off with a deep laugh. "Patty, you're strangling her. Just let her go." Patty pouted but sat back down. Turning to Maka with an understanding smile, he said, "We'll meet you in English at the end of the day. If you get lost or need our help with anything at all, go ahead and page us from any council room."

_We can page students?_ She opened her mouth to ask but then closed it, deciding that she'd rather not know. They already had so many jurisdictions that she was almost positive she would never use. No need to add another to the list. With one last wave, Maka fled the room, acutely aware of all the eyes on her back.

By the time she rounded the second corner, she had already pulled out her map. It was ridiculous how big this school was—Maka had heard stories about getting lost on their first day before, but at this rate she wasn't going to be walking around without a map for weeks!

_I have drama next in the theatre,_ Maka noted mentally. _Now where's that?_ The halls were already starting to fill with overachieving highschoolers and she had to stick close to the walls to match the complicated rooms to the numbers on her schedule. She had been so preoccupied with her comparing that she didn't realize she had entered a deserted hallway until the silence caught her ears.

Oh, crap. She glanced down at the map and realized that she had no clue where she was. Frantically, Maka searched the empty hall and spotted a staircase on the end. Maybe she would have more luck on the second floor. With that thought in mind, she bolted and flew up the steps—

—and ran right into a wall. A huge, towering wall of flesh.

"Sorry, sorry!" she blurted, glancing up to the towering figure. It was a boy, at least a head taller than her with the same white, disheveled hair as Soul. But just when she thought it might've been him, only with a wardrobe change, she noticed his eyes.

They were dark. Not the bright, almost luminous red that Soul's eyes were, but a deep crimson.

The color of blood.

_A Reaper_, she automatically concluded. He wasn't from the Star house; she would have remembered him. Even if his eyes didn't give him away, his rudeness would have. The other students may have been extremely aware of her and Soul might've been intense, but this boy's stare was downright disrespectful.

"Like what you see?" he said lowly, a smirk on his lips. Maka's cheeks colored. She had been staring… again.

"There's nothing to see," she retorted, immediately hating him. He was the type of guy she knew well back at all her other schools. Cocky. Arrogant. Hot and completely aware of it. When she had been the new girl before, she had attracted many of them because she was fresh meat. A shiny new toy that they all wanted to have. All she wanted to do was hide in her books.

The Soul lookalike caught her arm when she tried to move past him. "Wait, you're the new girl, aren't you? The one everyone's talking about?"

"That's none of your business," she said, trying to pull away but his grip was tight. Knowing that he wasn't going to let her go anytime soon, Maka tilted her chin up defiantly and spoke with acid. "Let me pass. The bell's going to ring soon, and I've already been late once today thanks to one of you."

He looked amused. "How do you know he was my friend?"

"Because you're just as annoying as he was!" Maka yanked roughly on her hand and was rewarded with a sharp stab of pain in her wrist. But he let go, mirth dancing in his deep red eyes.

"You know, a Shibusen girl shouldn't be so unladylike to a guy who's just trying to help her."

A daring brow shot up. "Help me? Is that what you're doing?"

The boy grinned devilishly and leaned down, his rough cheek brushing against hers. She was completely rigged as he whispered, "Not yet. But I'm sure I can help you in more ways than one." Maka barely had time to catch another infuriating smirk grace his lips before he pressed them against her own.

Her eyes went wide. He was _kissing_ her! She had no clue who he was, no idea what he wanted, and although she was sure that he knew no more about her than she did about him, this boy had the audacity to claim her lips like his own!

Maka didn't even think. She just shoved against the boy's chest and sent him stumbling back against the wall, his eyes widening more from surprise than pain. Anger burnt in her chest like she had never felt it.

"Leave me alone," she snarled. "If you think I'm interested in you, then get your head screwed on straight because it obviously isn't yet. And leave my friends alone too, while you're at it. Whatever it is that you and your friends do, I want no part of it and I doubt any of them do either. You're just a spoiled _bastard_." Then she pushed past him and started quickly up the stairs again.

She barely made it up three steps before the boy's hand clamped down on her shoulder and slammed her against the wall. The railing dug into her back and her shoulder hit the bricks with a force strong enough to knock the breath from her, the gasp sounding strangled. He was in front of her, face positioned in front of her shocked expression. Crimson eyes blazing with a mixture of fury and hatred, the boy growled and pushed harder against her shoulder, extracting another painful gasp from Maka's lips. It hurt so much that it almost felt as if his touch was _burning_ her.

"Don't talk like you know me," he growled ferociously. A wave of power accompanied his words, burning hot like acid as it rippled under her skin. Maka tried to cry out, but it was as if every organ in her body had been paralyzed and she couldn't move. Couldn't breathe. Couldn't speak.

Then he was gone and nothing was left to hold Maka up.

She collapsed like a doll. All energy just left and her legs failed her, sending the small blonde tumbling ungracefully down several steps to the lower landing. Hitting the ground with loud thud, a cry finally ripped itself from her throat and it was a horrible sound. The pain came at once, sharp and overwhelming and Maka bit down hard on her tongue to keep the next scream in.

Tears sprung in her eyes and her breathing hitched. Her paralysis did nothing to lessen the agony. Every time she tried to get up, a sharp pain would shoot through her shoulder and the ground would close in again. Then there was the fire—the bright, burning fire that ignited in her chest with a growing intensity so hot that she could barely breathe. Maka writhed on the floor, praying that someone would walk through the empty staircase soon and help her get rid of this torture.

But she knew the chances were unlikely. Sometime after that boy had attacked her, the bell had rung and all students were in class. If this hallway was unimportant enough to be deserted during the student rush, then it definitely wouldn't be subject to company from anyone while class was in session.

Maka shut her eyes and tried to concentrate on breathing. _In, out_. _In, out_. She shifted to get up before her body gave out and she collapsed again. The pain was too much. She was too weak. Silently, she cursed herself for it; if only she was stronger. If only she could be resilient and persistent and able to push herself through it. But she wasn't. She couldn't.

That was the moment Maka vowed never to be weak again.

"Oh shit," a disembodied voice cursed above her, but she was too weak to care. Her vision wasn't her biggest concern now. "What the hell happened here?"

Something touched her arm and she whimpered. There was another curse.

"Hang on." The voice was familiar somehow, deep and alluring but Maka couldn't recognize it. All she could register was that he was male and he was there. "Can you do that? I'm going to get help; I don't think I can move you."

She couldn't even manage a nod.

"Hey," the boy said. It took her a second to realize he wasn't speaking to her, but into a phone probably. "It's Soul. Look, I—" There was a pause, then a sigh. "Yes, I know I don't use my cell often but this is an emergency. There's this girl and she's hurt and I think I know what happened." Pause. "No… No, she's—I see burn marks on her sleeve and I think her arm is broken." Another pause, then, "Yes, damn it! Why else do you think I'd be calling you, Anya?"

A sharp female voice shouted over the line.

"You know what, just get your ass over here and heal her," he interrupted sharply. "We're at stairway twelve, third floor." The clicking sound signified the phone closing and her savior knelt by her head. "Help's on the way. Don't worry."

_Thank you_. The words burned in her mind and she wanted more than anything to let them out. This person was rescuing her. This person was going to make the pain stop. This person was like her angel.

She remembered him now. Soul, he had said. The boy who had made her late for class the first time. The boy who looked exactly like the one who had hurt her. But now he was helping her and Maka couldn't find it in herself to hold a grudge. It was the actions people did in times of trouble that really mattered, her mother used to say.

After a few minutes of silence, the sounds of contrast between their breathing the only noises made, Maka could hear footsteps coming from around the corner.

"Okay, Soul, you better have a good reason for—oh my God." The feminine voice cut off with a gasp. "Is she okay? Her shoulder looks…"

"I think she dislocated it," Soul said. "And you see these marks?"

Another gasp. "No way. Nuh-uh. Why would he—"

"How the hell should I know? Just heal her already; I think she might've already passed out."

"It looks so painful…"

"No shit, Sherlock. That's where you come in. Look, can you heal her or not? I didn't want to interrupt you in class unless I thought it was an emergency. We can't move her, so it'd have to be here or we call Raum."

"I don't know, Soul," the girl—Anya—said defensively. "If he used his powers on her…" She let it trail off. Suddenly the voice was closer to Maka's head. "Even if I can, I can't take away all the pain. She's going to be sore for a while."

"You think I don't know that?"

Anya didn't reply to that, only placed a cold hand on Maka's forehead. "Poor girl. She's burning up." Then she murmured quiet words so softly that Maka couldn't catch them. But she didn't have the time to because all of a sudden her shoulder made a loud popping noise and a shriek burned in her throat.

Maka clenched her fists tightly to hold it back, fingernails piercing holes in her palm. Soul seemed to realize she was suppressing her scream because suddenly his voice was there, whispering calming and soothing words she couldn't comprehend. But his voice helped. The hand stroking her hair helped even more.

"It's done," Anya said quietly. "Her shoulder's back in place."

But the pain wasn't gone. Maka's eyes fluttered open, slowly adjusting to the high beams overhead and the two heads huddled close over hers.

"Am I alive?" she croaked.

Soul let out a breath and Anya looked relieved. The girl had long blond hair pushed back with a gold headband, a single colored streak tucked behind her ear. The pale pink matched perfectly to her rosy irises, which were unusually bright with black veins sparkling all over. Anya had an innocent face, pretty and sweet, but her prim outfit choices made her look like she belonged in another century.

"Of course. You just passed out." Concern etched Anya's face. "Are you okay? I… I had to pop your shoulder back in. You dislocated it. Does it still hurt? What am I saying? Of course it does! I'm so sorry! You must be in so much pain."

A fire burned deep inside her chest, warming with every second passing but Maka couldn't bring herself to say so. What right did she have? They were trying their best to help her—a stranger—but for this she knew they wouldn't be able to. This all-consuming fire couldn't be tamed. Worrying them would be selfish.

She swallowed thickly, and took a deep, painful breath. Two sets of eyes watched her every move so she forced a smile that came out more like a grimace. Soul mirrored her expression. Maka opened her mouth to say she was all right and tried to push herself off the floor. But her hand barely twitched.

"I—I—I can't move," she gasped. Maka struggled to get up, to lift her arm, to roll over, to do _something_ but her body wouldn't obey. Panicking, she glanced between the two teenagers leaning over her but they were staring at each other. Anya's pink eyes were stricken and Soul was significantly pale.

"Do you think he did it? Do you think he actually used his ability on her? He knows he's not allowed to torment the new kids and especially not at school and oh God, if he did—"

"Anya, shut up and let me think." Soul rubbed his temples. "Shit. Shit, shit, shit. Raum's going to kill him for breaking the rules. That _idiot_." He stood then, determination set in his eyes. "We have to take her to Raum. He's the only one who can help her now."

"Soul—"

"What, do you want to just leave her here?" His eyes flashed.

Anya frowned. "Of course not. I just—"

"Just what? Want to take her to the nurse instead and try to explain why she's in a state of paralysis just because you don't want Raum to find out?" Soul glared, and the pink-eyed girl blinked. "She's hurt and it's _our_ responsibility because one of ours was stupid enough to let his temper get out of control."

"N—"

"Raum's the only one who can heal her," he said as if she hadn't spoken. "We have to go _now_."

"Jesus, Soul, I was just going to say that I want to beat the crap out of Wes for hurting this girl!" she shouted. "Can I leave her with you? That little bastard thinks he's all that, and I can't wait to set him straight—"

His answer was immediate. "That's non-negotiable. You're coming with us."

Anya pursed her lips. Her bright eyes cast down to Maka who, even in her trauma, couldn't have been more confused. Then she stood also. "Okay. Pick her up carefully, Soul, and I'll call our driver. Meet you at the Main Gate in five." She smiled at Maka and touched her arm lightly as Soul hoisted her up like a baby. "You're going to be okay. I promise."

"She means well," Soul muttered when the girl was out of earshot. "Anya is a maniac when it comes to hurting other people, but she has a good heart. She just hates it. That's why Raum always keeps her back at home when he sends the others out to battle. She's great with healing."

Maka's eyes must have betrayed her confusion because the boy paused.

"What do you think you'll become? When you Change?" When Maka merely blinked, Soul muttered, "Right, because it's smart to ask a girl who's mortally injured a question that requires speaking. Sorry. I'm just… not in a good mood right now."

She watched him quietly as he walked down the empty halls. Doing so seemed to help her forget her pain. His strides were long and he had a startling grace about the way he moved, because she was barely jostled in his strong arms. Jaw taut, he opened his mouth several times as if to say something but closed it. Despite the circumstances, Maka wanted to smile. It was almost endearing, his discomfort.

"I don't know why," he said suddenly, "but I feel the need to talk to you. It's weird because I've never talked much before. There's something about you that feels different from the other Stars." He frowned as he pushed open a door to step outside. "And you must have some nerve, standing up to me and Wes like that when you aren't even sixteen yet. If you're going to survive here, you need to be smart to who you claim as your enemies. See where your big mouth got you?" Soul glanced down and his frown deepened. "Sorry. I'll shut up."

"No." Maka's voice broke. Her throat had never been so dry. "Please… don't stop talking."

His red eyes widened in mild surprise. She noticed how they sparkled in the sunlight, like bright ruby orbs under a jeweler's light. So pretty.

"Soul! Over here!"

Anya stood at the end of the path beside a long limo, waving her hands high over her head. Soul stiffened visibly, face flicking back to the emotionless void that Maka had come to hate. He sauntered over to the dark car and slid easily inside it, placing Maka gently on the seat next to him with Anya closing the door behind them.

"Something the matter?" Anya questioned, noting a slight trace of tension in the air.

Soul glanced over to Maka for a mere second before shrugging, leaning back into the sleek leather chairs in stiff boredom. "No. Let's go see the Big Boss."

* * *

Countless minutes later, the limo pulled up into an unfamiliar driveway leading to a mansion as large as the Star house. Maka was still fretting over the fact that her friends would be extremely worried about her when she didn't show up for English. Worry ate at her. It was her first day at school and she was already disappearing without a trace. Would these people allow her a phone call? Even if they did, how could she even begin to explain?

But then she didn't have time to imagine her friends' reactions because Soul carried her up the steps to a building that confirmed her darkest fears:

They were taking her into the Reaper house.

Oh, dear God.

Her panic seemed to make the fire in her chest grow. Maka gnawed on her bottom lip, trying to level her breathing to a normal pace. Her carrier took one look at her pained face and swore.

"She's getting worse." Anya's voice was worried. "Do you think she'll be okay? Do you think she can hear us? She looks so pale…"

Soul didn't answer. Instead, he kicked the door open and yelled, "Raum! We have an emergency!"

Silence answered them but Anya only cocked her head to the side, as if listening to a sound that nobody else could hear. "He's in the study room," she announced quietly, already leading the way. "Come on; he's waiting for us."

Before Maka could even think to question how the girl could have possibly known that, Soul carried her swiftly down a few strikingly familiar old-fashioned walls. Even though they were moving much too fast to see anything, Maka could see the resemblance that this place had to the Star house: the same Victorian theme, the same long hallways, the same maze-like interior that made her dizzy to look at. It was almost scary how alike the enemy houses were.

"There you are!" Anya exclaimed and rushed ahead.

A man in dark clothing looked up from his book. He sat in a chair at the back of the library-like room, tall book-filled shelves lining the walls and comfy couches spread amongst the clatter. He didn't look any older than thirty. His eyes seemed to be a pure gold—exactly the same shade as Kid's—and they locked on Maka at once, blank as an unused sheet of paper.

"You two are home early," he said simply; unsurprised. "School does not let out for another hour."

"I'm sorry, Raum. We'll make up for classes later but we had to get this girl to you as soon as possible." Anya looked back at Maka, still paralyzed in Soul's arms. "She's hurt. Wes—"

"Ah." Raum nodded. "Wes. I see that he has stirred up trouble once again. And from the looks of it, it seems that he has gone too far this time. I will have to talk to him when he returns home." He closed his book and laid it on a small table beside him and studied Maka carefully. If she could move, she was certain she would have shivered.

"Can you heal her or not?" Soul snapped suddenly, and the man actually looked up in mild surprise. But the reaction was gone as quickly as it had come, and he stood without acknowledging Soul's immediate anger further.

"It is a possibility." When the two teens looked ready to argue, Raum commanded, "Put her on the sofa." Reluctantly, Soul complied and then regretted it instantly when the bright-eyed man continued, "Now leave."

"Not a chance. You—"

"Do you want me to help her or not?" he returned smoothly. "Leave us for a moment. I need to speak with this girl alone before I can determine how bad her injuries are and whether it is in my power to help her."

Soul clenched his fists then unclenched them. When he spoke, his words were hard. "She can't even talk. How are you going to know what happened?"

"Well, I take it that you two know no more than I do? You were not there, were you?" Raum smiled tightly at their silence. "Wait in the kitchen. I will call you when I have done my part, and gathered what little information I need. That is an order, Soul. Anya, take your brother and keep him there; I will try my best here."

_Brother?_ Maka thought in surprise. They were siblings? They looked nothing alike.

In fact, if Soul resembled anyone, it would be the boy who hurt her.

Anya glanced between the two males, one glaring and one indifferent, before linking her arm with Soul's. "Please do your best, Raum," she said quietly and, with one last reassuring smile to Maka, she disappeared in a flash. And took her brooding brother with her.

There was a moment of silence after a click sounded the door closing, but the air was not thick with discomfort. As if taking his sweet time, Raum collected his things and sauntered over to Maka's bedside with movements that were almost graceful. His gold eyes were as piercing as the sharpened blade of a knife.

"You are new?" he guessed. "And from the Star house, if I am correct?"

Swallowing dryly, she managed a squeak in confirmation.

"And judging from what I gather, you do not know what you are, do you?" Raum inquired, and Maka blinked at him blankly.

_What I am? I'm human, aren't I?_ Her already barely coherent mind began to spin even more, confusing conclusions coming with his outrageous comment. Who was he to say that she didn't know what she was? Now that her parents were gone, she had to be the only one who did.

"Such ignorance in your eyes," Raum mused. "What a fool Azazel is, bringing in a girl who does not even know the nature of her own species. Should I enlighten you? Perhaps it is not worth the fury that your father will explicit; presumably, he had kept you blind for a reason."

_My father is dead_, Maka wanted to say, before realizing with a start that he'd meant Azazel—the man who owned their group home yet had not once came to see her. How could he possibly be her father when she didn't even know him? Nobody, especially not this man or any other, could replace her true father's place. Not now, not ever.

"But perhaps your ignorance will be dangerous," Raum continued, his voice thoughtful and wary. "It would be tedious to have my children to hide what they are, just because you do not know it. Azazel may be, but I am not that selfish." He paused, before nodding decidedly, as if the true decision had always been clear to him. "You must be the Albarn daughter. Well, how about I give you a little history lesson right here? About the Collections of precious treasures that my kind have been fighting for possession of for many years..."

"Fire," she forced out. _This is not time for a history lesson_, she started to say, but only the first two words made it out fairly recognizably. Damn. Her throat was getting drier by the second, her lungs more coated in the inferno that refused to stop eating at her chest. The _last_ thing she needed was a lecture on past events. If she didn't get help soon, there was a chance that she wouldn't live to see the _future_.

A cool hand pressed against her forehead, whether to test her temperature or to stop her beating heart, Maka wasn't sure. But a cool wave of air seemed to flow through her like a current of medicine flowing through an IV tube, immediately calming her panic, and she found that she really didn't care. It felt like someone doused the flames with water.

When the hand lifted from her forehead, Maka could open her eyes with little difficulty. It was as if she was seeing the world again for the first time; the ceiling's intricate patterns were as clear as glass, the air no longer weighing down on her. She took in another deep breath, savoring the luxury of feeling her lungs fill with nourishing oxygen.

She would never take the ability to breathe for granted ever again. It felt so good.

"You are not completely healed," a voice said, breaking through her revelry. It was Raum, watching her with an expression that was carefully guarded. "You should not celebrate until you know the full severity of your condition."

"What condition?" Slowly, Maka pushed herself off the couch. She felt like she'd been immobile for days, her muscles were so sore. Tendons tightened when she stretched her arms over her head but the accompanied strain was much better than not moving at all, and it was definitely less painful than the pyre. When Raum said no more, Maka looked up in question.

He stayed absolutely still in front of her like a statue carved from perfect white marble, face still unreadable yet interest perked in every corner of his too-handsome face. It didn't look like anything would be able to move him.

"It's Raum, right? Your name," she added as if he didn't know. He didn't so much as nod. "I… Thank you. I'm not sure what you did or how you did it, but I just wanted you to know that I'm really grateful. Any longer with that pain and I would have… I don't know what I would've done. If there's anything I can do to repay you—"

"Putting yourself in my debt is a bad idea," Raum interjected, almost harshly. "If you are planning to survive in this world, then you must learn to have a little more common sense than that. I helped you purely because your affliction was against the rules. Believing anything more of me will make you naïve, and the naïve do not live long in war."

"I don't understand," said Maka, eyebrows furrowing.

"Of course you don't," he nearly scoffed. "There is not much you need to know other than the fact that you and I—we are enemies."

"Because you're part of the Reaper house?"

"No, because I _am_ a Reaper. And Anya and Soul? They are Reapers too."

"But I already know that," responded Maka.

"Do you?" Raum turned away from her, sauntering over to the far wall to check the shelves. Maka shifted awkwardly on her foot as she waited for him to say something more. Instead of simply speaking, he plucked a book from the large collection and tossed it to her, and she hastily tried to catch it before it dropped to the ground.

"_History of Gems_," she read the title out loud then made a face. "I told you already, I don't want—"

"Another piece of advice, Maka?" Raum offered. It was the first time he'd said her name, and when he did it was almost mocking, like a boy in on his own joke. "Do not think for a second that what you want matters here. Azazel will make you believe that he is to be trusted, but that is only a cover."

"Then how do I know I can trust _you_?" she questioned.

A corner of his lip twitched. "That is a good question. Whether you believe me or not is up to you. Either way, I am giving you all of the facts."

"You speak really weird, you know that?" Maka observed. "Sometimes it's formal and sometimes it's not; I'm not sure if that's intentional or if you just don't have the natural tongue for it."

Ignoring her comment completely, Raum said, "Your blood is different from mine, but both of ours are unlike any mortal's. We are not sure how we came to be. We do not know who the first was or if there ever really was a first, but we know our purpose and honor our place. As long as we fulfill it, our reward remains great. Do you understand your purpose? Why you are here right now?"

"Umm," she started, "because one of your kids pushed me down a flight of stairs and you have some sort of magic touch?"

"No," he said impatiently. "You are here because we are in war."

"There you go again with this war stuff." Maka frowned at him. "But this can't be war. War is guns and weapons and brutal battles in the field; war is chaotic and dispute and doesn't exist between two group homes that live in each other's backyard. That can't be possible. My friends said that we don't like each other, but that can't amount to any more than a few petty verbal attacks."

Raum's eyes darkened. "Your assumptions will be the death of you." The words themselves were calm, but she could feel the threat layered underneath. No, it wasn't a threat. It was more like… a warning.

Abruptly, his eyes snapped to the door and he inclined his head thoughtfully. Then a grimly amused look lit up his features in a way that made Maka think that he looked better with no emotion at all. "Your friends are here," he said. "They have come to see if you are here."

Her eyes lit up. "They're here? Where?" Not waiting for an answer, Maka broke into a full run out of the room when something held her back with a colossal force. She swirled to face Raum but he was still standing on the opposite side of the room from her. "What—?"

"It would be best if you kept what happened to you today a secret," he advised stoically. "I cannot force you to but if you tell anyone from the Star house what Wesley has done then there will be grave consequences for all of us. I will punish him on my own terms, but to speak of his mistake to Azazel or the other Stars will be much worse for him and our home."

_Wesley? Oh, the boy_, she remembered. _Crimson eyes, darker than Soul's_. "What do you mean, 'the consequences will be grave'?" she quoted.

"Exactly that."

"That hardly makes any sense. How do you know there will be grave consequences?"

"This you will have to trust me on."

"But I'm not even sure what—"

"Keep this a secret and you will be saving his life; share his mistakes and you will be wishing him the worst. That is your decision. If you can live with his pain on your hands, then you can do whatever it is that you want." Raum shrugged. "He broke the rules and I agree that he should be penalized. I would not wish this on one of my children, but what has already happened is not mine to control."

"You're trying to guilt me into this," she realized, narrowing her eyes. "That's not fair."

"Life is not fair."

"That's cliché," she scowled.

"That is the truth."

"You can't expect me to lie to my friends," she said hardly. "This is only my second day and I'm not comfortable keeping secrets."

"Like I said, it is your decision, little girl." Before she could protest further, he continued, "Just know this before you decide: you are going to die. Right this very moment, you are slowly falling to your demise because I cannot fully heal you from what has already been unleashed. Wes has poisoned your soul. If you wish to condemn him for it, then I suggest you go straight to Azazel. I will not deny that, if I was in your shoes, that would be my choice."

"But you just said—"

"I know what I said. I am only laying out the truths for you."

"What are you implying?" she asked. "What are _you_? You can't be serious…"

"You already know the answer to that." Raum nodded towards the door. "Think about that. Your friends are waiting for you." Then he turned away from her and started searching through the shelves, clearly dismissing her. Maka clenched her fists and spun around to leave. Nothing held her back this time.

Having never had been there before, she had no clue where she was going but it was as if something was tugging at her mind and pulling her the way she needed to go. Call it intuition or some weird sense of direction, Maka didn't think about it too long because then she was at the front door.

And on her way there, she slipped Raum's book into her bag, out of sight. Somehow she knew her friends wouldn't approve and she wasn't sure what her decision was. She wanted to make it on her own, without influence, without pressure.

Soul had the door open, revealing a stiff Kid standing a full feet away from him. He was speaking lowly and swiftly. "Don't lie, Evans. We know that she's here—" He broke off when he spotted Maka coming around the corner and relief flashed across his face. "Maka! Thank God you're okay!"

"Why wouldn't I be?" She smiled at him as he pushed past the white-haired boy guarding the door, agitation forgotten, and gave her a once-over with his golden eyes. He saw the dark burn marks on her sleeve and narrowed his eyes.

"What happened?" he demanded. "Did he…?" His eyes went to Soul.

Though Kid looked back to Maka, the implication wasn't missed. "Soul didn't hurt me," she was quick to assure him. If nothing else, she didn't want any of the blame on the boy who helped her. "He actually saved me."

Kid's brows shot up. "Saved you? Him? _How_?"

Maka paused. _If you tell anyone from the Star house what Wesley had done then there will be grave consequences for all of us_. What was that supposed to mean? Damn Raum and his cryptic messages. Almost everything that he'd told her sounded absurd, but the warnings felt so real. Broken rules, earned punishments, the lack of sympathy. It was impossible to tell whether or not he had said a word of truth to her.

"Maka, what happened?"

"I… I fell down the stairs," she said finally. "Soul found me and brought me here to get Raum to help. I dislocated my shoulder but they managed to pop it back in. I'm okay now, though." Kid's eyes widened but before he could say anything, she shook her head. "Don't worry about it. Can we just go home please? I'm really tired…"

"Of course," he agreed, though worry still leaked in his eyes. Kid glanced back at Soul, but Maka couldn't bring herself to see what those red orbs would say to her lie. "Let's go."


	4. Chapter Three

**Some SoMa for your souls!**

* * *

**CHAPTER THREE**

Apparently falling down the stairs, dislocating her shoulder, and getting her soul 'poisoned'—although it wasn't like they knew about that last part—didn't give her a free pass out of interrogations. They'd been back at the Star house for all of an hour and none of Maka's friends showed any sign of giving up.

"I still don't get it," Patty said, exasperated.

"You don't have to get it," Maka sighed. "I told you: I fell down the stairs." _True_. "Soul found me." _True_. "Anya popped my shoulder back in." _True-ish_. "They took me back to the Reaper house." _True_. "And Raum gave me the okay that said I was going to be fine." _False_. In her mind she read off which of her facts were true and which were false, a not-so-fun game she started to play. On the plus side, she was better at evasive truth-telling than she thought.

On the bad side… the thing Maka did have to lie about was the one that made it certain she wasn't going to have a very long life.

"But I've met Soul before!" Patty put her hands on her blond hair like she was about to pull it out. A few more minutes of this and maybe she would have. "He's way too much of an introvert to care about anyone else. Why would he help you just because you fell down the stairs? Are you sure we're talking about the same guy?"

"He's not a bad person," she said defensively.

"Maka, a few hours ago, you were ready to deck him. If I recall correctly, you labeled him the rude dude who made you late for second period."

"I didn't know him then."

"And you know him now?" It was Liz who spoke now, lighter yet exponentially more calculating. Her pale periwinkle eyes were intense and Maka felt uncomfortable under the scrutiny. It was like she was back at Shibusen all over again. "I wish I knew you better," Liz said quietly. "Then I could tell whether you were lying or not."

Maka looked down at the table, staring at the tray of snacks that the maids had prepared for them. She felt too sick to eat anything, but her housemates didn't have the same predicament. "I don't get what the big deal is. They saved my life. Why does there have to be more to the story than that?"

Tsubaki—who'd been mostly silent during the whole debate except for asking if Maka was alright—flinched. Still, she didn't say anything, only leaned back into the couch and nibbled on a muffin, letting Patty speak for her.

"Have you not heard a word we've said to you during lunch? Reapers equal bad. If they helped you with nothing in return, it means that they have a motive. And if they have a motive, it means that trouble is on its damn way. Don't you know how bad it would be if they tried something right now?"

"No," Maka said, suddenly bitter, "because it's not like you've told me anything about this war anyways."

Patty jumped up as if something shocked her. Liz's narrowed eyes widened and Tsubaki nearly choked on her food. Only Kid seemed capable of speaking, although he was just as bewildered. "War? Who told you that?"

Abruptly Maka stood, pulling her backpack up with her. The book Raum had given her felt like a block of lead weighing her down. "I'm going to go to my room. It's been a really long day and I just want to finish the homework I've been assigned then go to bed."

"Kitten—"

"Not now, Patty," she said tiredly. "Unless you guys are going to explain everything to me about this rivalry between houses and this so-called war, then I really don't want to have to lie to each other."

Her friends remained silent, and Maka nodded once.

"That's what I thought."

Then she turned around and walked out of the room.

-x-

Sometime after midnight, when everyone had long since gone to bed, someone knocked on her door. Maka had been staring at the ceiling for what felt like an eternity, so although it wasn't expected, it also wasn't unwelcome. And somehow she knew—she just _knew_—who it was, even before she opened her door.

"What do you want, Kim?"

Kim was dressed in a slinky tank top and super short shorts for pajamas which matched her persona just as much as Maka's oversized, off-the-shoulder tee matched hers. Her dark eyes were so alive; so calculating. "How much do you want to know what you are?" Kim asked slyly.

"Not enough to make a deal with someone who hates me."

Maka had started to close the door, but Kim inserted her foot between the gap before it could shut and pushed it back open. "Wait. Who said I hated you?"

Exhaling deeply, Maka sighed, "I'm not in the mood to play games right now, Kim. If you want to help, then please, go ahead. I won't stop you; I obviously need all the help I can get. But don't try anything else because the only thing you'll be accomplishing is making an enemy you really don't need. And since the Reapers seem to account for more than enough, I'd say that wouldn't really be smart on your part."

Surprise glittered in Kim's eyes—surprise and something else. Appreciation? Respect? "You're not as timid as I expected you to be," she noted with approval. "That's good. You'll need a backbone in this—"

"If you say 'war,' I'm going to shut this door in your face."

A grin lit up Kim's beautifully wicked face. "You might be fun after all, Albarn."

"You have five seconds to talk or leave," Maka told her impatiently, too tired to deal with more. "Five, four, three, two—"

"On second thought," said Kim, backing up through Maka's countdown, "I think it might be a little more interesting to watch you struggle a little bit longer. I'm curious to see what you'll do without my help. When you're ready to beg, you know where I am."

With one last elegant wave of her fingers and a wink, Kim was gone.

* * *

The ride to school the next day was tense. If Maka had expected her new friends to bend over backwards to break the rules and let her in on the big secret, she would have been disappointed. They simply watched her with uncomfortable eyes, ducking their heads whenever she looked their way as if they were kids who were guilty of taking the last cookie and lied about it.

As it was, she was disappointed anyway.

After Azusa dropped them off at the front gates, they still barely said five words to each other.

Tired and sad and about a million other entangled emotions, Maka opened her mouth to let them off the hook—to tell them she understood that they couldn't tell her anything, to say it was okay even though it really wasn't—when someone else spoke to her first.

"Hey."

All the Star teens stiffened at the sound of the outsider voice. Even Kim and Jacqueline glanced back over their shoulders from where they'd walked ahead, curiosity and intrigue clear in their postures and unique irises.

Soul flicked his eyes stoically around at the surrounding Stars before settling his gaze on Maka. If he was intimidated by being outnumbered, he didn't show it. "Can I talk to you?" he asked quietly. "Alone?"

"Oh, um, sure," she said, surprised. She looked to her housemates. "You guys can go ahead. I'll catch up with you later."

Beside her, Kid clenched his fists. "The hell you will—"

"Kid." It was Tsubaki who spoke, her voice as kind and gentle as ever. She touched his arm with the patience of a teacher guiding her favorite student. "We don't control her. You know that. If she wants to talk to Soul, she has the right to." She gave Maka an apologetic look and said softly, "I'm sorry, Maka. I really am." There was a double-meaning in her words, and Maka was suddenly so grateful she could cry.

Instead she wrapped her arms around her waist and nodded. "I'll see you guys at lunch."

When the others were out of earshot, Maka turned to Soul, who stood watching her with the same unreadable expression that seemed almost permanent on his handsome face. Except there was a hint of something else this time: confusion? Like she was a puzzle he just couldn't solve; like she was a new riddle he couldn't understand.

"What?" She flushed under his scrutiny when he continued to stare without speaking. "If you're just going to keep looking at me like that, this is going to be the second time you'll make me late in two days for no reason at all."

At that, the corner of his mouth quirked up. But it was only for a second because his frown returned when he asked, "What did Raum tell you?"

Maka sighed. "Not this again. He just—"

"I'm not asking for the same reasons the Stars must have," he interrupted.

"Then why—"

"I didn't _know_," Soul said lowly, and she could hear the faint frustration in his voice. "I didn't know until Raum told us that you had no idea what you were; that your parents died without teaching you; and that Azazel was making everyone keep it a secret. I swear if I'd _known_—" He stopped abruptly and blanked out his expression before continuing, though his tone was no less serious. "What did Raum tell you?"

Frowning, Maka bit her lip. "He just gave me a book about gems and—"

"Did you read it?"

"Well, I started to last night, but it was just about different stones and their properties and what 'spiritual connections' they have, and since I'm not really interested in that stuff—"

"You have to finish it," Soul told her quickly. "All the way through. The information you need is filtered between the lines, and you'll understand so much more about this shit if you go through the entire thing. Trust me; I was at the same point as you a year ago." He frowned. "I'm surprised Raum would give it to you though. He could be inciting some major conflict with Azazel because of it, and he's never really been one to help anyone in a rival house."

"Then why—"

"Trust me, if I knew, we wouldn't be having this conversation right now."

"Will you stop interrupting me?" Maka said with annoyance. "Seriously, are you always this eager to hear your own voice? I don't think I've finished a single sentence since you got here."

Soul stared at her. Then, as if coming to his senses, he let out a low laugh under his breath. It could barely even be considered a chuckle; it was more like an exhale, so breathy and faint, but somehow she could tell and damn if she didn't feel it in her core.

"What?" she demanded.

"Nothing," he answered but there was faint amusement in his voice. "It's just that I usually rarely talk at all, so this is… certainly not the norm. I'm sorry."

She was jolted with surprise at his apology. "It's okay. But if it makes you feel any better, I'll finish the damn book."

It was as if she'd yanked away his mirth with a string. His seriousness was back in full force. "Did Raum say anything else?"

Biting her lip, she began, "I don't really—"

"It's _important_." At the scathing look she gave him, he rolled his beautiful red eyes and lifted a hand in surrender. "Okay, okay. I'll let you speak."

"Thank you," she said emphatically then sighed, "Raum planted enough doubt in my mind to drive a rift between me and my friends, if that's what you're asking. We've barely spoken to each other since last night and it really sucks. So if that's what he wants to know, you can tell him he succeeded."

Soul cursed under his breath, surprising her. "Damn him. He guilted you into it, didn't he?"

"Huh?"

"I knew from the moment I asked to speak with you that you hadn't told the Stars the truth when you went back to that house; they wouldn't have left you alone with me otherwise. But I at least hoped they would have cleared things up after what happened." Soul raked a hand through his messy dark hair, clearly agitated. "What did he tell you about Wes? That it wasn't his fault? That you'd be sentencing him to death if you told the Stars?"

Maka's silence seemed to speak more than words.

Cursing again, Soul clenched and unclenched his hands as if it was taking a massive amount of energy to keep from punching something. "Goddamn it!"

"I don't get it." Maka hated that she had to admit it, even though it was necessary. She hated being clueless in general. "Do you want Wes to die then? I thought he was your—your housemate. Your brother even, because god knows you look so damn similar. Would you rather me tell everyone, which would get him hurt and the rest of you condemned? Because I don't think my friends would give you a free pass just because you saved my life. No matter what I told them, they seemed intent on believing that _all_ Reapers were pure evil."

Soul froze. "You kept that secret because of _me_?"

"What do you want me to say?" she said with exasperation. "I'm obviously the only stupid one in this equation, so I really—"

"_Don't_. Don't say that," said Soul fiercely. "You're not stupid. It's not your fault that your parents kept your heritage from you and that your so-called _friends_ aren't helping."

"Then tell me why you seem so angry with me!"

Whatever he was going to say next was interrupted by the sound of the first period warning bell. Maka froze then glanced around the open courtyard to see that it was completely empty except for them, void of overachieving students who tended to get to class as early as physically possible. Her eyes met Soul's across a space that, what had felt so small moments before, now felt like acres.

"We should—"

"Skip with me."

Her brows pulled together at his words. "Soul, I'm already two weeks behind. I can't afford to miss another day."

"I don't want to leave it like this. Besides, it's only one lesson and we're from Star and Reaper houses; we wouldn't get into any trouble." At the look on her face, he rolled his eyes. "I can tutor you later if you're really worried about it. I have an A in math."

"Considering you were sleeping in class yesterday, I find that really hard to believe."

"_Maka_."

It was the first time he'd said her first name, and it startled her. She could feel the vibration in her core, in her very center, like he'd lit her up with fire underneath, explosive and volatile. "Okay," she agreed finally after a moment. "I'll play hooky with you. But only if we go off campus; I don't want to get caught."

"Easy. I had my own ride today, so we can go anywhere you want." Soul shoved his hands into pockets and nodded towards the parking lot. Maka followed right beside him, slightly nervous—but even more than that, she was kind of buzzing with energy. She was always the good girl who did the right deeds and said the right things and was friends with the right people; she never skipped before, and she certainly never—

"_Oh my God_." Her eyes nearly bulged out of her head when she saw his 'ride.'

Soul did the whole breathy exhale-laugh again at her expression. "I take it you've never been on a motorcycle before?"

She couldn't tear her eyes away from the metal contraption. "Your guess is correct."

"Scared?" he taunted.

"Not in the slightest," she answered without skipping a beat. "I was just trying to calculate how many people will have the misfortune of seeing my underwear today if I get on that thing." She gestured to her skirt.

This time it was Soul's turn to be surprised before he laughed once more, musing, "You are quite possibly the strangest girl I've ever met."

"I'll take that as a compliment. Now pass me the damn helmet before I change my mind."

* * *

"It's confirmed: You are _definitely_ the strangest girl I've ever met."

Even though Maka rolled her eyes, she couldn't help but smile. She and Soul were currently sitting in a booth at the closest McDonald's. They originally planned to go to a coffee shop, but since she missed breakfast by taking extra long to get ready so she could avoid awkwardness with her housemates, Soul insisted that he take her for some "real" food.

Since she was a vegetarian, "real" food consisted solely of French fries and a strawberry milkshake.

He made a face as she dipped another fry into her drink. "That's disgusting."

"Hey, you can't judge unless you've tried it."

"You'd have to kill me first."

"Wow, who would've thought that Soul Evans would be a drama queen?" she teased.

Grimacing, he said, "You say that like you've been listening to a lot of gossip about me."

"Just that you're a Reaper."

"That still constitutes as gossip."

"Is it gossip if it's true though?"

Soul opened his mouth then closed it. "_Touché_."

Tipping her head back, Maka let her laughs fill the restaurant, trilling and pure and completely unadulterated. It trailed off when she caught Soul staring at her without reservation, his bright red eyes as unreadable as always. "What?"

He simply shook his head, not saying a word.

"_Je ne vous comprends pas_," she muttered under her breath, falling back flawlessly into her French, as she always seemed to when she didn't know what else to say. _I don't understand you_.

She hadn't been expecting a response, so when Soul replied softly, "_Moi non plus_," she nearly choked on the fry she popped into her mouth.

"_Vous parlez français?_" she asked when she finished coughing wildly, smacking a hand against her chest repeatedly. _You speak French? _

Soul lifted one eyebrow. "_Je pourrais demander la même chose de vous_." _I could ask the same of you_.

"My mother's maiden name was Beauchamp; she was born in Paris, and always made sure we paid tribute to our roots. Evans isn't a French last name. If anything, it's Welsh."

Lifting one shoulder in a shrug, he flicked at a fry on her plate. "One of the benefits of living with Raum is that he's a scholar. You must've understood that from seeing his library. He always puts in the extra resources if you want to learn something—_anything_—even other languages. Just because everyone else in my house decided to slack off doesn't mean that I wanted to."

Like a slap, she realized that he must've been with that foster home from an early age. It was still new to her that not everyone was blessed enough to be raised by loving parents for most of their lives like she was. "God, I'm so—"

"Don't worry about it. That's not what we're here to discuss anyways." Soul dropped the fry. "Why'd you keep it a secret?"

She knew immediately what he was talking about. "I told you, I—"

"It's not that I want Wes to be punished, because I don't," he interjected. "He may be an ass more often than not but he's still family. But what he also did _to you_ was wrong on so many levels and I can't stand the thought of you being pressured by our C—I mean, our foster father. That's not fucking fair."

"Life isn't fair," she echoed Raum's words.

Soul's mouth twisted into a wry smile. "I know that. But we should have the choices to tell those who control us to go to hell."

"Does it really matter though?" Maka asked tiredly, suddenly no longer interested in her food. "Whether I choose to tell on Wes or not—and I don't care what you say because that's exactly what it would be like: tattling—it doesn't change the fact that whatever he did hurt _me_."

His fists tightened on the table. "If enough people knew, we could have the power to—"

"No way," she interrupted. "We're going to do this like twenty questions. You asked your question, now it's my turn."

"This isn't a goddamn game—"

"Then humor me. _Please_."

Soul's piercing eyes softened slightly when they saw something in her expression. She didn't know what it was but she was glad for it. "Okay," he said finally. "What do you want to know?"

"Are we witches?"

He burst out laughing. "If you said that to anyone else in my house, they'd probably blow your head off in more ways than one. We may have powers like witches do—healing, soul sucking, telepathy, you name it—but we are named after something completely different, something they would argue is so much better. I'm sure you can guess what."

She didn't even have to think about it. "Gems."

"Yes." He nodded. "And Raum and Azazel? They're called Collectors. They Collect us like some humans would collect semi-precious stones, adding value to their Collections with each addition. Number could equal immense power but mostly it's about the _types_ of Gems they Collect. Some are stronger like Amethysts and Rubies—"

_Tsubaki and Soul_, Maka thought in her mind correspondingly; somehow it just clicked with their eye colors and with what she knew of them.

"Others are simply unique because their abilities are special," he continued. "Like a Malachite's ability to walk through dreams, or a Garnet's power to darken souls."

The first Gem he mentioned was unrecognizable to her but she knew enough to recognize the second: _Wes_. Clearly that was the boy with the blood red eyes several shades darker than Soul's. Even with her limited knowledge of gemstones, Maka could make the connection. "So a Gem's eyes correspond with his or her gemstone?" she asked. "Does that mean we're named after them?"

"No way," said Soul. "We came first; those fucking stones were named afterwards by some human who saw similarities."

"That means we'd have to be older than rocks; than _Earth_." The disbelief was clear in her voice.

Soul shook his head. "The rocks may have existed before we did, but we were named first. The labels simply caught on in respect to those stones because of the similar colors, patterning, and energies."

"Oh…"

"The Reaper and Star Collections are two of the strongest in North America, mostly because of the shaky truce between the two houses that prevents full-out battles on public grounds. Other Collections can be decimated in a single attack. Because Raum and Az choose to co-exist rather than fight boundlessly, our Collections have the capability to grow very large and others don't really dare to come near because of the sheer number of us."

"What does that make Raum and Azazel then?" she wanted to know. "Raum told me that our blood is different from any human's, but also different than each other's. Do they have powers too?"

Shaking his head once, Soul explained, "They don't have powers in the same sense that we do. They have certain abilities which allow them to hold power over us and they can sometimes tell what kind of Gem we'll be once we Change, but really the main difference is that Collectors possess immortality."

"Wow." Maka blinked then mused, "No wonder Raum talks so funny."

Soul barked out a laugh. "You're ridiculous."

"I thought we already established that," she said. "So they live forever then? They don't ever age or die? _Can_ they age or die?"

"They may not age but they're not indestructible and they can definitely die. Every five hundred years, Collectors bear successors to their throne. One male to take over the Collection they'd spent several centuries cultivating. Azazel's son isn't around these days, and honestly, you should be lucky that he isn't. That guy's a real piece of work. He's our age but acts like a fucking child and already calls himself god as if he's already taken over. As Reapers, we'd hate him on principle if not for the fact that we already hate him for his stupid personality." His face turned strange. "You _have_ met _my_ house's heir though."

"I have?" Maka frowned, trying to think back to all the Reapers she'd met in the past and came up short. The only ones she could remember were— "You and Wes?"

Soul choked on a laugh. "You're fucking with me, right? There's no way Raum would let us anywhere near the head of his household. He barely tolerates the three of us as it is."

"Three?" she echoed. "So that means you, Wes, and Anya are…"

"Triplets," he confirmed. "Fraternal, but unfortunately related by blood."

She bit her lip, thoughtful. "I don't get it; the three of you are still together, still have a family. Even if you weren't separated when your parents died, how does it make sense that all Gems become orphans by adolescence?"

All the amusement dried on his handsome face and he gave a stiff shrug. "Being a Gem is hereditary. Most of us don't anticipate to live very long in this war anyways."

Maka thought of her mother with her bright violet eyes that matched exactly the shade of Tsubaki's; of her seamless ability to always know when something was wrong; of the way she could kiss one of Maka's injuries with love and have it disappear completely the next day.

_Amethyst_.

She should've had a hard time believing this, but for some reason, she couldn't bring herself to. It just clicked; it felt right.

And she trusted Soul—even though it was clear she probably shouldn't.

"The only catch is that Collectors need Gems to swear fealty before they Change," Soul continued. "There's a birthing ceremony at the exact hour you'd been born, sort of like a re-birthing, where you basically bind your life to the Collection for as long as you live. It's—"

"When we're sixteen," she finished for him.

Approval sparkled in his eyes. "So you know."

"It's not exactly that hard to put together with the fact that everyone in my grade has already Changed, and the only difference is that I still haven't had my sixteenth birthday."

"You're taking this much better than I thought you would," he noted.

"That's because I've always been a little bit crazy," she muttered. "And I watch a lot of movies. So sue me."

Soul exhaled another laugh and Maka perked up at the sound. "My turn." When she tipped her head like _go ahead_, he asked, "How could you not know? What you were; what your parents were? Didn't you feel it?"

Maka took a deep breath as if she was preparing to say something so profound it could not simply rest on half-empty lungs. "Have you ever read a book where something was so obvious and the main character couldn't see it? Where you wanted to smack him—or her—across the head and demand, 'How the hell could you be so stupid?'" He stared at her so she rushed to continue, "I've always been impatient with characters like that but in reality, when you really think about it, how could you possibly guess that you're something out of this world when there's always the possibility you could be insane instead?"

"You assume you're crazy."

"Exactly." She bit her lip. "Although in this case, I kind of assumed everyone else in the Star house was crazy and not me because they do act like a bunch of nut jobs."

He cracked a smile. "I guess that's one thing our Collections have in common then."

"My turn." Maka waited until his gaze was completely locked with hers before she asked quietly, "Why are you telling me all of this?"

Every muscle in his body seemed to stiffen beyond his control before he regained enough composure to smooth his posture back into an unreadable cover.

"I don't need every reasoning," she rushed to say. "It's just… I get that it must be against some kind of rule if this Azazel guy wants to keep me oblivious, and I don't want you to get in trouble because you felt some sort of obligation to tell me the truth on Wes's behalf. You saved my life and I—"

"Stop saying that," he said harshly.

Startled, Maka stopped fiddling with the straw of her milkshake. Her brows pulled into a frown. "You Reapers really don't like accepting thanks, do you?"

"I told you the truth because I only fight fair and I don't believe in any sense that it's okay—or even safe—for you to be here in the middle of it when you don't have any clue what's going on."

"Does that make us enemies too then?"

Soul stopped, startled. His expression matched hers. "I didn't say that."

"So are we friends?"

His frown deepened. "I didn't say that either."

She seemed to realize that they were getting nowhere with this conversation and quickly switched topics. "Okay, then there's another matter at hand."

Maka took his raised eyebrows for a prompting "What's that?"

"When do we start this math tutoring?"


End file.
